out  mM   wen   ft  ad  veen    Stttv/tmea  /    miee 

wad  tt  wen  aedtiw/ea  vu  /tie. 
//         </   / 


a  at  m?/  own  ht/e  /t 


'TRUTH  IS  STRANGER  THAN  FICTION.' 


THE    LIFE 


OF 


SERGEANT  I.  W.  AMBLER, 


EMBRACING 

DIS  NATIVITY,   POVERTY,  AND  TOIL,  WHEN  BUT  A  CHILD  IN  THE  COAL- 
MINES  OF  ENGLAND ;  HIS  CONNECTION  WITH  THE  BRITISH  ARMY,  SUF- 
FERINGS AND  DISSIPATION ;  HIS  ESCAPE  TO  THE  UNITED  STATES, 
AND  DISSIPATION    CONTINUED;    HIS    CONVERSION    IN  NEW- 
BURYPORT,  MASS.,  UNDER  THE  LABORS  OF  REV.  DANIEL 
PIKE ;  HIS  LABORS  IN  THE  CAUSE  OF  TEMPERANCE 
AND  AS  CITY  MISSIONARY  IN  BIDDEFORD,  ME.  ; 
AND    EFFORTS,   SACRIFICES,    AND    SUFFER- 
INGS FOR  HIS  ADOPTED  COUNTRY  DUR- 
ING THE  LATE  GREAT  REBELLION. 


MOKALS    Or   T1IK   PEOPLE. 


Illustrations. 


BO  STON: 

LEE    AND    SHEPARD,    PUBLISHERS. 
NEW    YORK: 

LEE,   SHEPARD  &   DILLINGHAM. 

1886. 


Entered  according  1o  Act  o»  Congress,  in  the  year  1873.  b» 

ISAAC   W.  AMBLER, 
ID  th«  office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


PWNTBD  BY  ALFRED  MUDGE  &  So*. 
BOUND  BV  IRA  BRADLEY  &  Co. 


PREFACE. 


THIS  book  is  dedicated  to  the  public  with  two  objects  in  view 
one  is,  to  lead  hardened  sinners,  poor  drunken  men,  to  Christ; 
the  other  is,  to  get  bread  for  myself  and  family  in  my  crippled 
condition. 

"We  think  the  above  is  all  the  preface  that  is  necessary  in  giving 
this  book  to  the  public,  and  we  publish  it  in  the  fullest  conviction 
that  while  it  may  interest  and  help  while  away  many  a  lonely  hour, 
at  the  same  time  it  will  not  fail  to  improve  the  heart  and  mind  of 
its  readers,  making  them  better  patriots  and  more  practical  Chris- 
tians, and  will  shed  a  ray  of  light  on  the  pathway  of  some  now 
hopeless  wanderer,  who  will  see  that  if  there  is  hope  for  the 
chiefest  of  sinners,  like  me,  there  is  ulso  salvation  for  him,  if  he 
will  only  look  to  God  for  help. 

1.  "W.  AMBLER. 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PORTRAIT, i 

GOING  TO  ALMS-HOUSE, 1 6 

RUNAWAYS  SELLING  CAP,         .........    24 

IN  THE  MINES, 32 

PRISONERS  GOING  TO  POMFRET, 48 

WHIPPING  A. SOLDIER, 64 

FIRST  MEETING  WITH  WIFE, 104 

ESCAPE  FROM  INDIANS 112 

SPEECH  FROM  OLD  STATE-HOUSE, 176 

DRILLING  CAVALRY, 184 

SUNSTRUCK  AT  CHAIN  BRIDGE, 1 92 

DRILLING  INFANTRY — BAYONET  EXERCISE, 208 


CON  TEN  TS. 


CHATTER    I. 

Birth — Mother's  death — The  Bailiff—  Going  to  the  poor-house — Dream 
iii  the  poor-house 13 


CHAPTER   II. 
Scolding  mistress — Fainting 18 

CHAPTER    III. 

Deliverance  from  the  poor-house — With  my  grandparents  again— Work 
in  the  coal-mines — Abused  by  the  overseer — My  first  drunk — Con- 
fession to  grandmother 21 

CHAPTER    IV. 

Great  fright — Hard  times — Dangers  in  the  pit — Religion  in  the  pit — 
Condition  of  the  workmen — Girls  in  the  mines — Terrible  accident — 
Grandmother's  blessing 27 

CHAPTER    V. 

Change  of  masters — Explosion  in  the  mines — Narrow  escape  from  the 
fire  damp — Saving  my  employer — Death  of  my  grandfather — Strange 
custom  at  funerals 35 

(7) 


viii  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER    VI.  ' 

Abused  by  my  employer — Still  abused,  now  by  my  uncle — The  banditti 
— Uncle  frightened  out  of  his  house — Terrible  explosion — Death  of 
my  grandmother — Breaking  my  wrist — Experience  with  the  doctors 

— Humbug  continued — Getting  wrist  set..  41 

• 

CHAPTER   VII. 

Trouble  with  the  muff— In  prison— Sighing  for  liberty — Awful  dream 
— Taken  from  prison — Trial  and  acquittal — All  my  cakes  gone 51 

CHAPTER    VIII. 

liegging  my  way  home — Meeting  rebuffs — The  soldier's  wife's  pity — 
Begging  still  for  bread — The  motherly  heart— Explosion  and  narrow 
escape 58 

CHAPTER    IX. 

Enlisting  and  rejectment — Four  of  us  running  off— Enlisting  while 
drunk — Sworn  in — Getting  our  heads  shaved — How  to  divide  the 
soup 64 

CHAPTER    X. 

Flogging  by  the  pulpit — How  whipping  is  done — How  the  corporal 
caught  it — An  awful  death — The  sad  parting — Sailing  for  the  .Med- 
iterranean—Stealing from  the  hogs 70 

CHAPTER   XI. 

Getting  into  Corfu — Climate  and  sickness — The  doctor's  murder — Girls 
visiting  the  prison — Robbing  the  old  Jew — Hiding  the  money — Irish 
corporal 77 

CHAPTER   XII. 

Burying  a  man  alive — The  murderer  caught— How  Tim  caught  a  ghost 
— Sick  comrade— From  Corfu  to  Malta— Rows  with  the  Maltese— 
You  are  a  dead  man ,  .84 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 


IX 


Sick  at  Malta — Attempted  suicide — Promotion  and  its  dangers — Arrest 
and  a  fight — Waking  up  and  the  trial — Joke  on  the  police-sergeant.  .91 

CHAPTER   XIV. 

Cooking  the  goose— Reason  more  potent  than  blows — Safety  where 
there  is  prayer — The  attack  on  the  road — The  smash  up — On  a 
lark 97 

CHAPTER   XV. 

Fastened  to  the  prisoner — The  attempted  escape — A  comical  position 
on  guard — Getting  fast  in  the  grates 103 

CHAPTER   XVI. 

A  deserter's  strategy — Bravery  honored  by  the  Queen — First  interview 
with  my  wife — Row  with  the  servant — The  Orangemen — Attempt  to 
burn  a  Catholic  church — Secured  a  friend 107 

CHAPTER   XVII. 

Separating  the  belligerents — Why  I  resolved  to  desert — The  kidnapper 
getting  whipped — Showing  them  a  trick 114 

CHAPTER    XVIII. 

How  I  got  married — Hiding  in  the  woods — Narrow  escape — Getting 
away  from  the  Indians — Reaching  the  States — General  soliloquy.  .118 

CHAPTER    XIX. 

Getting  posted — Getting  to  work — Setting  up  house-keeping — Rum  and 
wretchedness — Caught  on  the  Admiral 124 

CHAPTER   XX. 

Following  a  loom  to  Biddeford — The  runaway  pigs — Drinking  up  the 
pigs — Old  Skillings'  horse — The  ride  to  the  depot — Robbing  the 
overseer 129 


x  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER    XXI. 

Getting  better  liquor— The  custard  man— Getting  into  a  fight — Hunting 
for  another  chance — Wanted  to  go  up — Wife  mistrusted  me 135 

CHATTER   XXII. 

A  set-to  with  sticks — Drinking  the  fluid — Getting  into  another  muss — 
Wife's  patience  exhausted — Longing  to  break  my  fetters — Crockery 
going  for  rum — Wife  leaving  me — Degraded  and  hopeless — Saving  a 
woman  from  being  murdered— Getting  a  cold  duck 141 

CHAPTER   XXIII. 

Struck  under  conviction — Rising  for  prayers — Finding  peace  while 
praying — All  things  become  new — Trying  to  read  the  Bible  151 

CHAPTER   XXIV. 

Joining  the  Church — Revival  breaking  out — My  first  trial — A  literal  in- 
terpretation— Church  admonition — My  heart  drawn  out  for  others — 
In  my  element — How  I  worked  it — A  hard  case  reached — All  right 
now 156 

CHAPTER    XXV. 

Breaking  up  a  rum-shop — Pounding  temperance  into  a  rumseller — 
Don't  advise  all  to  do  so — One  or  two  missionary  incidents — Affidavit 
— The  poor  family  blessed — Spilling  the  rum — Marching  with  the 
Sunday  school 1GC 

CHAPTER   XXVI. 

Leaving  the  mission  for  the  drill-room — Testimonials — The  use  of  them 
— Speech  at  the  State-house — Rushing  matters  in  the  drill — Letters 
of  commendation — British  drill-clubs — Paper  squibs. . ,  174 

CHAPTER    XXVII. 

Going  to  Camp  Preble — The  parting  scene  at  the  depot — Poisoning  at 
Havre-de-grace— Scenes  connected  with  Bull  Run— Throwing  the 
plank  off  Chain  bridge — Sport  with  the  chaplain— The  scriptural  ex- 
cuse— Skirmish  with  the  enemy 182 


CONTENTS.  Xl 

CHAPTER   XXVIII. 

The  first  prayer-meeting—  Second  meeting  better  still—  A  hard  sight- 
Catching  the  spy  —  getting  sun-struck  —  Burning  the  woods  —  A  little 
self-adulation  —  Capt.  Strong's  escape  —  Scott  sentenced  to  be  shot  — 
Pardoned  by  President  Lincoln  —  Ode  on  Scott  —  How  his  pardon  was 
obtained  ..................  .....................................  190 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 

Going  back  to  Maine  —  A  pass  from  Scott  —  Why  I  did  not  go  back  —  At 
work  drilling  —  The  exhibition  —  The  description  —  General  Dow's  let- 
ter  —  Breaking  my  wrist  —  Getting  another  wound  —  At  Galloup's 
Island  —  Sober  reflections—  Surgeon's  certificate  ..................  204 


CHAPTER   XXX. 

Famine  in  my  purse  —  Sympathy  for  comrades  —  A  sad  story  —  Kelly's 
wife's  statement  —  Wm.  Kelly's  death—  Hard  raising  money  —  Getting 
names  to  petition  —  Petition  to  Congress  —  Testimonials  —  A  paper 
puff  ............................................................  216 


CHAPTER   XXXI. 

Charge  on  Washington  —  Staving  things  off—  Broker's  proposal  —  A  little 
dodge  —  Letters  —  Purpose  to  stick  —  Getting  into  a  Catholic  hospital 

—  Criticising  Solomon  —  Getting  my  back  up  —  Meeting  in  Washington 

—  What  the  paper  said  —  My  great  speech  —  Driving  a  bargain  —  My 
excuse  .....................................................  231 


CHAPTER    XXXII. 

Getting  some  comfort — Battle  with  the  devil — Fighting  it  out — Fight- 
ing by  proxy — A  brave  countryman — His  death — A  well-drilled  pupil 
— The  glorious  Sixth  Maine — Terrible  slaughter — Gen.  Burnham's 
account— Gen.  Burnham's  gallantry— Gen.  Burnham's  death— Fruits 
of  good  drilling— How  I  was  justified— Heroism— Soldier's  letter — 
The  lessons  of  war 246 


xJJ  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER   XXXIII. 

Job's  turkey — Anecdote  of  Fisk — Interview  with  Fisk — The  poor 
helped — Providence  helps — Head  wind  again — Summons  to  Court — 
The  trial — Talk  with  the  lawyer — A  mean  dun — Privations  of  the 
poor — Way  to  do  good — Moneyless  man — Others  think  jvs  I  do — My 
experience — Christian  workers 268 


CHAPTER    XXXIV. 
SERMON  ON  THE  LOST  SHEEP— Conclusion 288 

APPINDIT . .  313 


LIFE  OF  ISAAC  V,  AMBLEE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

I  WAS  born  in  Littlemore,  Yorkshire  County,  England,  in 
the  year  1825  or  1826.  The  exact  date  of  my  birth  I  never 
knew. 

My  father  was  a  smart,  active,  and  industrious  man,  naturally 
quick- tempered,  but  soon  reconciled.  He  was  by  trade  a 
weaver.  He  was  a  kind  father  and  an  affectionate  husband. 
My  mother  was  a  quiet,  humble  Christian,  one  who  adorned 
the  doctrines  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour  by  a  well-ordered  life  and 
conversation.  I  can  remember  when  a  child  how  she  would 
place  her  hand  upon  my  head  and  bless  me.  I  was  the  only 
child.  When  three  years  old  my  father  moved  to  a  house  near 
the  New  Dolphin.  My  grandparents  lived  near  the  Old  Dol- 
phin, with  whom  lived  my  uncle  William.  He  had  three  sons 
and  a  daughter.  Soon  after  my  parents  moved  to  the  New 
Dolphin,  my  mother  took  me  to  see  my  grandparents.  She 
canied  me  in  her  arms,  and  when  returning  home,  in  crossing 
a  neighbor's  field,  she  was  frightened  by  a  bull.  My  mother 
had  on  a  red  shawl,  which  caught  his  gaze,  and,  bellowing  with 
rage,  he  gave  chase ;  mother  threw  me  into  a  thorn  hedge,  and 
started  at  a  swift  pace  towards  a  stone-wall,  which  she  reached 
just  as  the  breath  of  the  animal  could  have  been  heard  behind 
hei\  In  her  haste  to  get  over  the  wall  she  slipped  and  fell  over, 
severely  bruising  her.  She  soon  arose,  and  by  a  circuitous 
route  came  limping  round  where  I  was  in  the  hedge,  and  took 
me  in  her  arms,  and  with  difficulty  reached  home.  She  never 


14  MOTHER'S  DEATH. 

recovered  from  the  effects  of  her  bruises,  but  had  to  take  her 
bed,  from  which  she  never  arose.  During  her  sickness,  I  was 
one  night  called  to  her  bedside,  and  she  put  her  hands  upon  my 
head  and  blessed  me,  gave  me  to  God,  and  then  breathed  her 
last.  Thus  was  I  early  deprived  of  a  mother,  whose  gentle 
admonitions  and  humble  prayers  I  shall  never  hear  again. 
How  thankful  should  I  be  that  God,  who  is  faithful  to  his  peo- 
ple, has  heard  the  prayers  of  my  mother,  though  offered  many 
years  ago,  and  that  in  New  England,  far  from  my  native  home, 
he  has  sent  his  Holy  Spirit  to  convince  me  of  sin,  of  righteous- 
ness, and  of  judgment,  and  that  through  his  help  I  have  com- 
menced a  new  life.  How  true  are  the  words  in  the  Scriptures, 
that '  the  prayers  of  the  righteous  availeth  much.' 

My  father  belonged  to  a  club,  and  it  was  the  custom  when 
one  of  their  number,  or  family  died,  for  all  to  attend  the  funeral 
services.  On  this  occasion  they  had  to  go  some  three  miles  to 
the  burial-ground ;  four  men  earned  the  corpse  on  their  shoul- 
ders. When  they  came  to  Queen's  Head,  about  one  mile  from 
home,  they  blew  their  trumpets,*  and  I  remember  of  looking 
up  to  my  father  and  saying, '  Father,  mother  is  crying.'  When 
we  had  gone  about  one  mile  from  Queen's  Head,  I  was  crying 
so  hard  that  my  father  told  me  to  go  to  my  grandparents, 
about  one  mile  distant.  I  went  a  short  distance,  and  sat  down 
beside  the  road,  when  a  stranger  came  along  and  took  me  into 
his  carriage  and  carried  me  to  my  grandparents,  and  soon  after 
I  went  home  to  my  father's.  A  few  weeks  after  my  mother's 
death,  my  father  took  it  so  much  to  heart,  as  he  worshipped  my 
mother,  and  as  his  fireside  seemed  dreary,  the  chief  attraction 
being  gone,  that  he  took  to  drink ;  and  this  led  to  gambling, 
an-A  he  passed  much  of  his  time  in  the  ale-houses,  neglecting 
his  work,  and  running  in  debt.  I  remember  one  day  of  going 
to  a  neighbor's  house,  and  he,  knowing  my  father  was  a  drink- 
ing man,  abused  me  and  told  me  to  go  home  about  my  business. 
I  went  home  crying,  and  told  father,  who  was  quite  angry  with 

•  A.  custom  in  country  places  at  that  time,  when  passing  houses,  to  blow  trumpets. 


THE  BAILIFF.  15 

him  and  went  immediately  to  see  what  he  meant  by  abusing 
me ;  arriving  there,  he  commenced  to  talk  with  the  man,  and 
they  soon  came  to  hard  words,  and  then  to  fighting.  Father 
was  a  very  strong  man,  and  he  seized  him  and  threw  him  over 
his  head,  nearly  killing  him.  Father,  as  I  have  said  before,  was 
in  debt,  and  the  bailiffs  came  for  his  goods,  and  as  the  doors 
were  fastened  they  went  away,  but  soon  returned  with  a  sledge, 
and  broke  open  the  doors  and  entered.  Father  took  me  with 
him  into  an  upper  chamber  and  locked  the  door.  The  bailiffs 
took  all  the  things  below,  excepting  some  straw  which  they  left 
for  us  to  sleep  on,  and  carried  them  away.  This  was  in  the  cold 
season,  and  I  suffered  much,  not  having  enough  to  eat,  and 
staying  at  home  many  nights  alone.  My  father,  having  yet  some 
feeling  left,  took  me  to  my  grandparents,  and  told  them  that 
he  would  pay  one-half  a  crown  per  week  for  my  support;  they 
agreed  to  keep  me,  and  he  went  away  to  Halifax,  four  miles 
distant,  to  work  in  the  mills,  weaving.  He  came  to  my  grand- 
parents' to  see  me  the  two  Saturday  nights  following,  and  the 
last  night  he  came,  called  me  up,  as  I  was  then  in  bed,  and  gave 
me  three  half-pence,  and  kissed  me  and  left ;  and  from  that 
time  I  have  never  seen  nor  heard  from  him. 

Now,  truly,  I  was  all  alone, — my  mother  dead,  my  father  the 
same  as  dead  to  me,  without  sister  or  brother,  and  dependent 
on  charity.  My  grandfather  was  very  poor,  a  shuttle-maker  by 
trade.  Both  grandparents  were  pious,  and  members  of  the 
Wesleyan  Methodist  Church,  and  lived  up  to  their  profession. 
I  was  now  about  five  years  old.  My  grandparents  sent  me  to 
school  a  short  time,  but  money  was  scarce,  and  as  they  could 
not  pay  my  tuition,  they  took  me  from  school  and  set  me  to 
work  winding  bobbins  for  weaving.  After  working  at  this 
about  two  years,  my  grandparents  taught  me  to  weave,  and  be- 
ing too  short  to  reach  the  looms,  I  was  compelled  to  wear  a 
pair  of  wooden  clogs  some  two  inches  thick  to  reach  the 
treadles.  Business  soon  become  dull,  and  we  were  left  without 
work.  My  grandfather  went  to  the  overseers  of  the  poor, 


16  GOING  TO  THE  POOR-HOUSE. 

to  ascertain  if  they  would  assist  in  my  support;  but  they 
would  not  assist  any  one  away  from  the  poor-house.  Shortly 
after  this,  my  grandmother  asked  me  if  I  should  like  to  go  to 
Clayton,  two  miles  distant;  she  said  she  would  buy  me  some 
candy.  I  went,  not  expecting  that  she  would  take  me  to  the 
poor-house ;  but  poverty,  to  what  straits  will  it  not  drive  the 
most  exemplary?  When  the  pangs  of  hunger  were  driving 
them  to  desperation,  she  could  not  bear  to  tell  me  that  she  was 
going  to  take  me  to  the  poor-house.  My  grandmother,  after 
she  arrived  at  the  poor-house,  talked  with  a  woman  at  the  door 
a  short  time ;  then  this  woman  took  me  under  her  arm.  and 
while  I  kicked  and  screamed  she  carried  me  into  the  house.  I 
ran  out  into  a  back  yard  where  there  was  quite  a  garden  spot  that 
had  a  fence  some  ten  feet  high  around  it.  I  climbed  up  this 
fence,  and  got  caught  so  that  I  could  neither  get  up  nor  down. 
The  woman  came  and  took  me  down,  and  carried  me  into  a 
room  where  there  were  a  number  of  women  and  children,  who 
stared  rudely  at  me. 

Here  I  was,  a  stranger.  None  knew  me,  and  I  knew  none 
of  them,  and  turning  from  their  earnest  gaze,  I  shrunk  away 
into  one  corner  of  the  room,  and,  covering  my  face  with  my 
hands,  I  wept  bitterly.  I  cried  until  dinner  was  served  up, 
which  consisted  of  coarse  porridge,  and  which  I  could  not  eat, 
as  I  could  not  subdue  my  tears  nor  stop  the  throbbing  of  ray 
heart.  In  this  way  I  remained  until  supper,  when  the  mistress 
kindly  brought  me  a  piece  of  bread  and  molasses,  a  part  of 
which  I  managed  to  eat ;  after  that  a  big,  brawny  fellow  took 
me  to  an  upper  chamber,  where  among  quite  a  number  of  beds 
I  was  stowed  away  in  one  corner  of  the  room  upon  a  small  cot* 
Thus  left,  I  sunk  into  an  uneasy  slumber;  thoughts  of  my  early 
home  and  of  my  mother  came  upon  me;  I  thought  that  I  again 
stood  by  my  mother's  bed,  and,  with  her  hands  upon  my  head,  she 
blessed  me  as  she  did  the  night  she  died.  These  words, '  God 
bless  and  preserve  the  poor  orphan,'  seemed  to  ring  in  my  ears, 
and  bursting  into  tears,  I  awoke,,  and  pulling  the  clothes  over 


DREAM  IN   THE  POOR-HOUSE.  17 

my  head,  I  again  sobbed  myself  into  a  broken  slumber.  Again, 
I  dreamed  of  home  and  of  my  grandmother;  I  thought  I  knelt 
by  her  side  and  repeated  iny  evening  prayer;  again,  my  father 
seemed  to  stand  by  my  bedside,  as  on  the  night  he  left  me ;  I 
seemed  to  feel  his  burning  kiss  upon  my  cheek,  and  awoke  to 
find  myself  an  inmate  of  the  poor-house.  I  could  not  sleep, — 
the  hours  passed  slowly  away, — every  striking  of  the  clock  1 
heard, — how  glad  I  was  when  the  first  ray  of  morning  light 
found  its  way  through  the  humble  window.  I  hailed  the  bright 
messenger  and  welcomed  his  first  coming  to  break  the  long, 
long  darkness  of  the  night.  Ye,  who  sleep  on  beds  of  down; 
ye,  who  pass  the  hours  of  night  in  pleasure  and  revelry,  and 
would  stay  the  morning  light,  think  of  the  poor  orphan ;  and 
may  God,  in  his  goodness  and  mercy,  ever  keep  you  from  the 
miseries  of  the  poor-house. 


18  SCOLDING  MISTRESS. 


CHAPTER  II. 

WITH  the  first  dawn  of  light  I  fell  asleep ;  how  long  I  slept 
I  knew  not,  but  was  awakened  by  the  harsh  tones  of  the  mis- 
tress, who  rudely  shook  me  by  the  arm,  and  said : 

'Come,  sir,  is  this  the  way  you  want  to  spend  your  time?' 

I  hardly  dared  to  gaze  into  her  face,  but  answered  that  I  had 
not  slept  until  daylight. 

'Well,'  said  she,  'we  sleep  here  by  night  and  work  by  day, 
and  we  allow  no  breaking  of  these  rules.  Now  dress  yourself 
and  come  down  to  breakfest.' 

I  dressed  as  quick  possible,  and  hurried  down.  The  room 
into  which  I  went  was  a  long  one,  and  in  the  middle  of  it  was 
a  table  reaching  nearly  the  whole  length,  around  which  about 
fifty  persons  were  seated.  I  seated  myself  beside  a  bright, 
pretty  girl,  about  fourteen  years  of  age,  and  while  the  others 
made  some  coarse  remarks  about  me,  this  girl  kindly  moved  my 
chair  for  me  to  sit  by  her  side.  As  I  sat  down,  the  whole  com- 
pany stared  at  me,  and  as  I  thought  how  different  from  the  lit- 
tle table  that  we  seated  ourselves  around  at  my  grandmother's, 
tears  filled  my  eyes,  which  caught  the  gaze  of  my  mistress,  and 
she  said, '  Come,  we  want  no  babies  here,  and  you'll  find  we 
don't  allow  any  baby  whims.  Now  stop  your  crying,  or  go  up- 
stairs.' 

Stop  my  crying !  As  well  she  might  have  told  the  waves  to 
stop  their  dashing  upon  the  seashoi'e,  or  stop  the  rays  of  the 
sunlight.  I  sprang  from  the  table  and  ran  up-stairs  to  my 
room. 

The  shades  of  night  were  drawing  around,  and  as  I  looked 
from  the  window  and  heard  the  wind  rustle  through  the  trees, 
how  sad  the  sound  to  me ;  that  which  was  music  sweet  to  me  at 
other  times,  now  filled  my  soul  with  sorrow,  and  it  seemed  tn 


ANOTHER   VICTIM.  19 

be  the  very  echoing  of  ray  sad  heart.  But  I  gazed  beyond,  and 
as  I  looked  up  to  the  bright  heavens  and  saw  the  evening  stars 
twinkle,  and  the  moon  shedding  forth  her  rays  of  light,  and  as 
the  darkness  increased  and  the  shadows  of  the  trees  appeared, 
stretching  forth  their  huge  limbs  along  the  dusty  way,  I  was 
startled  by  the  cry  of  the  blackbird.  What  shrill  tones  they 
were !  They  thrilled  in  my  ear  like  that  sound  which  I  never 
shall  forget,  the  trumpet  tones  that  were  blown  at  my  moth- 
er's funeral.  I  thought  when  the  trumpet  was  blown,  of  the 
loss  of  my  mother,  and  now  this  seemed  to  remind  me  of  the 
loss  of  my  father.  As  I  looked  out  I  heard  the  rumbling  of 
wheels,  and  immediately  a  carriage  came  swiftly  up  to  the  door, 
and  a  man  alighted  and  took  a  child  from  the  carriage.  I  heard 
the  treading  of  feet  below,  and  the  distant  tones  of  my  mis- 
tress's voice,  and  then  the  reply  of  a  man.  I  saw  the  carriage 
turn  and  hasten  away.  Another  one,  I  thought,  has  come  to 
crowd  the  already  over-filled  poor-house.  I  leaned  on  the  win- 
dow-sill and  wept.  I  then  w^ent  and  knelt  down  in  one  corner 
of  the  room,  and  with  upturned  eves  I  repented  my  evening 
prayer,  and  prayed  that  God  would  take  me  home  to  Him, 
where  my  poor  mother  was.  I  then  arose  and  went  back  to  the 
window,  and  leaned  against  the  window-sill.  Sleep  came  over 
me.  How  long  I  slept  I  know  not ;  but  when  I  awoke  the  sun- 
light filled  the  chamber.  I  remembered  of  going  to  sleep  at 
the  window,  but  I  was  now  in  my  little  cot,  my  clothes  were  off, 
and  I  inwardly  blessed  the  one  who  had  cared  for  the  poor  or- 
phan. While  musing,  a  girl  came  to  my  side,  the  one  I  sat  be- 
side at  the  table.  She  said,  'Do  you  remember  where  you  went 
to  sleep  last  night? '  I  told  her  it  was  by  the  window,  I  thought. 
She  said,  'My  mistress  came  up  with  me  last  night,  and  seeing 
you  at  the  window,  she  said,  "Dirty  boy,  let  him  stay  there." 
But  after  mistress  was  gone,  I  carried  you  to  your  cot.'  I 
thank  you,  I  said,  and  could  say  no  more.  I  felt  happy  to  know 
that  there  was  one  that  felt  and  cared  for  the  poor  orphan.  But 
while  talking  with  her  I  heard  my  mistress  calling  me  to  come 
down.  I  got  up  and  dressed  myself,  and  went  down  and  found 


20  .  FAINTING. 

that  the  breakfast  was  cleared  away,  but  the  mistress  gave  me 
a  cracker  with  a  mug  of  water.  The  cracker  I  ate,  but  I  felt 
weak,  and  I  plead  with  her  to  send  for  my  grandmother  to 
come  and  take  me  home.  But  she  paid  no  attention  to  my  re- 
quest, and  I  found  it  availed  me  nothing  to  plead  with  her.  I 
felt  the  teara  trickling  down  my  cheeks,  my  head  grew  dizzy, 
and  I  fell  senseless  to  the  floor.  When  I  came  to  myself,  I  was 
in  my  little  cot,  and  watching  at  my  side  was  the  girl  who  had 
been  so  kind  to  me.  I  tried  to  rise,  but  fell  back  exhausted  on 
the  bed  and  closed  my  eyes  to  sleep. '  What  dreams  I  had!  In 
my  imagination  I  was  carried  to  a  fairy  land ;  it  seemed  as  if 
thousands  were  gathered  before  me,  and  sweet  music  fell  like 
the  faint  murmur  of  rippling  brooks,  and  then  in  prolonged  and 
swelling  notes  it  seemed  to  break  forth  in  such  delightful  strains 
that  my  soul  was  in  ecstasy.  I  looked  around  on  this  vast  as- 
sembly, and  near  me  I  beheld  my  mother.  She  looked  at  me, 
and  an  angelic  smile  seemed  to  light  up  her  face,  as  she  beck- 
oned me  to  approach  her.  I  hastened  on;  and  as  I  n eared  her, 
stretched  forth  my  hand  to  grasp  hers.  A  few  more  steps  and 
I  should  take  her  by  the  hand.  But  before  me  was  a  deep, 
dark  chasm,  into  which  I  had  almost  plunged.  I  looked  down 
this  dark  abyss,  and  could  see  no  bottom.  I  raised  my  eyes, 
and  the  scene  had  changed ;  dark  forests  of  trees  were  all 
around  me;  clouds  seemed  gathering  over  my  head,  and  I  turned 
and  hurried  from  the  place ;  but  dark,  black  clouds  were  hasten- 
ing after  me ;  I  turned  to  look  behind,  when  a  vivid  flash  of 
lightning,  that  blinded  me  for  an  instant,  accompanied  with  a 
startling  crash  of  thunder  that  rocked  the  trees,  and  seemed  to 
rend  the  earth  asunder,  struck  a  huge  tree  at  my  side.  A 
bright  ball  of  fire  struck  the  top,  and  scattering  the  limbs 
around,  sunk  deep  in  the  earth  at  my  feet.  It  awakened  me ; 
my  lips  were  parched,  my  flesh  hot ;  some  water  was  at  my 
side,  I  eagerly  drank  it  down,  and  again  I  slept  until  morning 
dawned.  When  I  awoke  with  what  joy  1  learned  that  they  had 
sent  for  my  grandmother  to  come  and  take  me  home,  thinking 
that  unless  they  did,  I  should  worry  myself  to  death-. 


DELIVERANCE  FROM  THE  POOR-HOUSE.  21 


CHAPTER  III. 

How  happy  I  felt,  and  how  quickly  I  dressed  myself  and 
ran  down  to  wait  her  coming  to  take  me  home.  Looking  out 
of  the  window  to  catch  the  first  glimpse  of  my  grandmother, 
how  my  heart  beat  as  I  saw  her  coming.  I  could  not  wait,  but 
seizing  my  cap,  I  hurried  from  the  room  and  ran  down  the  road 
to  meet  her.  When  I  reached  her  I  threw  myself  into  her 
arms  and  wept  tears  of  joy.  She  was  so  overcome  that  she  sat 
down  beside  the  road  and  wept  freely,  and  kissing  me  she  said, 
'If  I  have  only  one  meal  a  day,  thee  shall  have  one-half  of  it, 
Isaac.'  I  felt  so  happy  that  I  laughed  and  wept  by  turns,  and 
I  told  her  I  would  do  anything  for  her  if  she  would  never  send 
me  to  the  poor-house  again.  She  said  she  never  would ;  and 
arising  from  the  ground,  we  turned  our  backs  upon  the  poor- 
house,  and  started  for  home.  All  my  wardrobe  I  had  was  on 
my  back,  and  as  we  went  toward  home  how  happy  I  felt,  every- 
thing looked  beautiful  around  me.  The  sun  was  shining  bright- 
ly, and  the  earth  was  clothed  in  green ;  the  fragrance  of  the 
blossoms  was  wafted  on  every  breeze ;  my  troubles  were  all 
forgotten ;  my  poverty  was  at  once  changed  into  riches,  for  as 
I  looked  on  the  broad  face  of  Nature,  I  thought,  the  sun  is 
shining  for  me,  the  birds  are  singing  for  me,  the  sweet  scent  of 
roses  was  wafted  on  every  breeze  to  me,  and  can  I  not  enjoy 
the  beauties  of  God's  creation  as  highly  as  the  person  who  can 
command  his  millions  ?  For  although  his  money  is  at  his  com- 
mand, yet  not  the  whole  of  it  can  stop  the  singing  of  the  birds 
for  me,  or  the  rays  of  the  sun  shining  for  me,  or  blot  out  one  of 
the  thousands  of  stars  that  illuminate  the  heavens.  Then  am 
I  not  happy  to  be  thus  situated, — having  wealth  that  cannot  be 
counted, — riches  that  cannot  be  estimated  conferred  daily  upon 


22  WITH  MY   GRANDPARENTS  AGAIN. 

me?  And  as  these  thoughts  rushed  through  ray  mind,  how 
happy  I  felt.  I  would  run  some  distance  before  ray  grand- 
mother, until  she  would  be  just  visible  behind  me,  and  then  sit 
down  beside  the  road  to  wait  for  her.  When  we  arrived  home 
I  was  set  to  weaving  again :  but  business  became  dull,  and  we 
had  very  little  to  do,  and  I  remember  of  hearing 'many  prayers 
offered  up  to  the  Throne  of  Grace,  that  God  would  send  them 
some  work,  that  they  might  get  some  money  to  buy  their  daily 
bread,  and  often  some  little  jobs  would  come,  and  thus  we 
wei-e  kept  along. 

About  this  time  a  new  kind  of  hand-loom,  called  the  '  Jac- 
quurd'  loom,  was  introduced  for  weaving.  My  grandfather 
took  the  job  of  boring  the  'cumber-boards'  (they  were  full  of 
holes  for  the  harness  to  pass  through),  and  I  used  to  tread  the 
lathe  to  help  bore  them,  which  was  very  hard  work  for  so  small 
a  boy,  and  I  used  to  drip  with  sweat.  My  grandfather  saved 
up  some  money  by  this  job,  but  my  grandmother  was  taken 
sick  shortly  after,  and  it  took  all  the  money  he  had  saved  to 
pay  the  expenses  of  her  sickness,  and  thus  we  were  left  desti- 
tute again.  But  they  trusted  in  God  and  prayed  still,  and  in 
this  condition  we  lived,  getting  just  enough  to  keep  us  alive. 
One  morning  I  overheard  my  grandfather  say  to  my  grand- 
mother, that  I  should  have  to  go  to  the  poor-house  again.  On 
hearing  this,  I  hardly  knew  what  to  do.  The  very  thought 
made  me  sick.  I  thought  of  the  coal-mines, — could  I  get  work 
there?  I  was  small,  but  boys  worked  in  the  mines  as  small  as 
I  was.  I  will  try,  I  said  to  myself,  and  I  ran  out  of  the  house 
and  went  to  one  of  the  coal-mines  that  was  about  a  mile  dis- 
tant, and  I  hired  out  with  a  collier  for  six  shillings  and  six 
pence  per  week.  I  then  went  back  and  told  my  grandparents 
what  I  had  done;  they  consented  for  me  to  go  to  work  the 
next  morning.  The  coal-mines  are  the  last  resort  to  obtain  a 
living,  and  no  parents  will  let  their  childrem  go  into  the  mines 
if  they  can  otherwise  support  them.  Children,  when  very 
small,  can  get  work  in  the  mines  when  they  could  not  at  any 
other  place.  I  went  to  work  in  the  coal-pit. 


WORK  IN  THE  COAL  MINES.  23 

In  opening  a  coal-mine  they  first  sink  a  shaft  to  the  seam  of 
coal,  varying  from  one  hundred  to  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet 
deep.  Often,  in  sinking  a  shaft,  the  loose  dirt  will  fall  in,  and, 
to  prevent  this,  the  upper  part  of  the  shaft  is  walled  around, 
sometimes  this  is  done  nearly  the  whole  depth.  These  shafts 
are  from  ten  to  fifteen  feet  in  diameter.  Another  difficulty  that 
arises  is,  that  veins  of  water  are  struck,  which  immediately 
commence  to  fill  up  the  shaft.  This  is  excluded  by  lining  the 
shaft  with  boards  fastened  to  the  sides,  which  is  called  tubbing. 
If  the  first  shaft  that  is  sunk  proves  successful,  in  most  cases 
another  is  sunk  about  fifteen  feet  from  it,  and  then  at  the  bot- 
tom an  opening  is  excavated  to  the  other  shaft ;  one  of  these  is 
called  the  down  cast  and  the  other  the  up  cast.  The  object  is 
to  get  ventilation,  the  air  descending  the  down  cast  and  as- 
cending the  up  cast. 

In  this  mine  I  had  to  take  coal  in  what  is  called  a  scoop  or 
a  small  corve.  This  corve  in  which  I  drew  my  loads  of  coal 
was  an  oblong  wagon,  with  small  iron  wheels,  running  on  a 
railway.  The  distance  to  the  mouth  of  the  pit  was  two  hun- 
dred yards.  The  passage  was  about  two  feet  high.  This  coi've 
was  fastened  to  me  by  a  chain,  passing  between  my  legs  and 
hooking  into  a  staple  in  a  broad,  leather  belt  around  my  wnist. 
To  haul  a  loaded  corve,  with  the  rigging  attached,  requires 
practice.  At  first  it  was  exceedingly  tiresome,  and  I  have  often 
fallen  flat  on  my  face  from  exhaustion,  but  by  constant  effort 
and  practice  it  became  less  laborious.  This  corve  I  would  haul 
by  going  on  '  all  fours,'  or  upon  my  hands  and  feet,  while  the 
weight  of  my  body  would  be  suppoi'ted  by  the  chain  passing 
between  my  legs.  In  hauling  my  corve  in  this  manner,  I  wore 
the  skin  off  my  hands  so  badly  that  my  grandfather  made  me 
two  wooden  crutches  to  hold  in  my  hands,  and  by  them  I  was 
enabled  to  continue  work  without  so  much  pain,  as  the  crutches 
kept  my  hands  from  the  earth  and  sharp  pieces  of  iron  ore  that 
were  in  the  bottom  of  the  passage. 

From  the  top  of  this  pit  to  the  bottom  it  was  sixty  feet. 


24  ABUSED  BY  THE  OVERSEER. 

This  mine  was  worked  on  a  cheap  scale,  no  horses,  no  machin- 
ery of  any  kind,  excepting  a  block  and  tackle  to  hoist  the  coal 
from  the  bottom  of  the  pit.  My  corve  I  would  haul  to  the 
mouth  of  the  pit,  where  the  'banksman,'  so  called,  as  he  stands 
at  the  top  of  the  pit  and  hoists  out  the  coal,  would  lower  down 
a  rope  with  an  empty  corve  attached,  which  I  would  take  off 
and  then  hook  the  rope  to  the  loaded  corve  which  the  'banks- 
man' would  hoist  to  the  top  of  the  shaft.  Sometimes  the 
'banksman' would  hoist  so  slowly  that  I  would  have  to  wait 
some  time  for  him  to  lower  down  the  empty  corve,  and  my  em- 
ployer would  throw  large  pieces  of  coal  at  me  for  being  gone 
so  long.  Sometimes  I  have  been  struck  so  hard  as  to  nearly 
knock  me  down.  Then,  again,  I  would  hurry  so  fast  with  my 
corve  to  get  back,  that  I  have  often  struck  my  back  against  the 
ledge  and  bruised  me  so  badly  that  the  blood  would  trickle 
down  at  eveiy  step  I  took.  The  water  in  these  mines  was,  in 
many  places  through  which  I  hauled  my  load,  six  inches  deep. 
Sometimes,  striking  the  ledge,  I  have  been  thrown  flat  in  the 
water,  and  I  would  pray  that  God  would  take  me  out  of  the 
world. 

I  worked  in  these  mines  two  or  three  months,  abused  by  all 
around  me.  I  worked  in  the  lower  passage ;  above  me  was  a 
passage  or  chamber,  and  one  morning  this  chamber  sprung  aleak, 
and  the  water  soon  filled  the  passage  that  I  worked  in,  so  that 
I  *was  obliged  to  leave  off  work.  I  went  home  and  told  my 
grandparents,  and  they  set  me  to  weaving,  I  woi'ked  a  few 
weeks,  but  as  I  did  not  earn  enough  to  keep  me,  my  grandpar- 
ents sent  me  to  look  up  some  work.  I  went  about  one  mile 
from  home,  to  another  coal-mine,  called  'hunting-pits,'  old 
mines  that  had  been  worked  many  years  before,  and  when  left, 
the  timber  that  supported  the  roof  was  knocked  down,  and  the 
roof  fell  in,  and  considerable  coal  was  in  the  passages.  The 
work  was  to  get  the  remainder  of  the  coal.  I  hired  here  for 
eight  shillings  and  sixpence  per  week.  The  colliers  usually 
take  their  work  by  the  job,  and  hire  boys  to  work  for  them, 


MY  FIRST  DliUNK.  25 

and  haul  the  coal  out  to  the  month  of  the  pit,  while  they  pick 
the  coal  out,  which,  of  itself,  requires  practice  and  experience. 

The  colliers  settled  with  the  boys  at  the  end  of  every  week, 
and  my  money  I  used  to  take  home  to  grandmother,  she 
giving  me  a  ninepence  a  week  for  spending  money.  The  col- 
liers were  all  hard  drinkers,  and  very  profane,  especially  the 
one  I  worked  with.  The  keeper  of  the  inn,  where  we  used  to 
settle,  usually  did  a  good  business  Saturday  night ;  for  much 
of  the  money  that  was  paid  to  the  boys  would  be  spent  before 
they  went  home ;  many  times  my  employer,  after  settling  with 
me  Saturday  night,  would  spend  the  balance  ot  his  money  for 
drink,  and  then  borrow  of  me.  Since  that  time  an  act  has  been 
passed  by  Parliament,  forbidding  colliers  paying  off  their  help 
at  taverns,  under  penalty  of  five  to  twenty  pounds.  The  pass- 
ing of  this  act  has  done  a  great  amount  of  good  to  the  poorer 
classes,  and  restrained  drinking  .to  some  considerable  extent. 

One  Saturday  night  the  colliers  had  called  for  their  help  to 
go  up  to  the  tavern  as  usual,  and  settle.  I,  having  worked 
hard  that  day  and  during  the  week,  had  pleased  my  employer 
so  well,  that  he  was  bound  to  treat  me ;  and  by  strong  persua- 
sions he  induced  me  to  drink  with  the  rest  of  them,  and  by  so 
doing  I  got  intoxicated  so  that  I  had  to  stop  at  the  tavern 
until  late  at  night  before  I  was  able  to  go  home.  The  scenes 
of  that  night  are  now  before  me,  and  I  can  easily  trace  much 
of  the  misery  and  sorrow  which  have  followed  me  through  a 
large  part  of  my  life,  to  the  indulgences  of  that  night.  I 
started  for  home,  and  the  first  part  of  my  journey  my  steps 
were  irregular,  but  before  I  arrived  home  I  was  as  sober  as  ever. 
My  grandmother  always  sat  up  for  me  Saturday  nights,  and  as 
I  neared  the  house  and  saw  the  light  burning  in  the  window 
for  me,  my  heart  almost  failed  me ;  but,  mustering  courage,  at 
length  I  opened  the  door  aiid  entered.  My  grandmother  was 
up  and  anxiously  waiting  for  me.  She  met  me  at  the  door,  and 
said,  *  Isaac,  I  am  afraid  that  thee  has  been  drinking  with  the  col- 
liers. I  know  that  they  all  drink ;  have  they  not  enticed  thee  to 


26  CONFESSION  TO  GRANDMOTHER. 

drink?"  I  could  never  tell  my  grandmother  a  falsehood,  and 
I,  therefore,  told  her  the  whole  story.  She  talked  long  with 
me  that  night,  and  how  earnestly  she  prayed  that  I  might  be 
saved  from  the  temptations  that  beset  me  on  every  side,  and 
that  I  might  be  kept  from  going  down  to  a  drunkard's  grave. 

How  unhappy  should  I  have  felt  if  I  had  foreseen  the  evils 
that  this  act  led  me  into.  What  great,  and  alas!  what  fatal 
results  followed  that  first  glass.  When  asked  to  drink  I  knew 
the  evils  of  it.  I  knew  the  consequences,  yet  I  had  not  the 
moral  courage  to  say,  No  I  Never  taste  or  drink  the  first  glass, 
and  you  will  never  be  a  drunkard ;  drink  it,  and  the  chances 
are  against  you.  You  may  indeed  say,  as  I  did  that  night,  '  It 
will  do  no  hurt  this  once.'  But  if  you  drink  the  first  time, 
you  will  be  more  liable  to  accept  the  second  time  it  is  offered 
you.  Then,  again,  did  you  ever  know  a  moderate  drinker  to 
say  or  even  think  that  he  would  become  a  drunkard  ?  They 
have  not  the  least  idea  of  such  a  thing.  But  who  makes  the 
drunkard,  is  it  the  sober,  temperate  man  ?  No,  it  is  the  moder- 
ate drinker.  Then,  reader,  beware,  if  you  take  your  first  glass 
because  it  is  fashionable  or  manly,  that  you  do  not,  by  the  use 
of  strong  drinks,  bring  your  body  to  an  early  grave,  and  your 
soul  unprepared  to  meet  its  God.  That  first  glass  that  I  took 
that  night  at  the  tavern,  was  the  means  of  bringing  misery  and 
wretchedness  upon  me,  and  an  appetite  for  strong  drinks  that 
well-nigh  carried  me  to  a  drunkard's  grave.  But  my  readers 
must  pardon  my  digression  here,  if  such  they  term  it.  My 
excuse  is,  that  it  is  demanded,  and  I  should  fail  to  discharge 
that  duty  which  devolves  upon  me  of  portraying  the  evils  that 
arise  from  the  results  of  taking  the  first  glass,  if  I  lightly 
passed  this  over. 


GREAT  FBIGUT.  £7 


CHAPTER  IV. 

ON  Monday  morning  following,  1  arose  early  as  I  was  accus- 
tomed to  do,  and  took  my  scanty  breakfast  and  started  for  my 
work.  My  way  was  through  a  narrow  road  called  'Stock's 
Lane.'  This  lane  was  about  one-half  a  mile  long,  and  one  mile 
from  this  lane  was  the  Sheffield  Furnace  Iron  Foundry.  The 
blaze  that  went  up  from  the  chimneys  of  that  foundry  would 
cast  a  light  for  miles  around.  One  side  of  this  lane  that  I  trav- 
eled was  shady,  while  the  other  was  very  light.  By  the  side  of 
this  lane  was  Dolphin  Chapel,  with  a  burial-ground  attached, 
where  my  mother  was  buried.  I  had  often  heard  the  old  peo- 
ple tell  of  ghosts  being  seen  here,  and  when  passing  this  burial- 
place  I  used  to  keep  on  the  dark  side  of  the  lane,  so  that  no  one 
could  see  me.  Passing  along  early  one  Monday  morning,  on 
the  dark  side,  I  tripped  my  foot  against  something  in  my  way, 
and  fell  headlong.  I  arose  quickly,  and  hearing  behind  me  a 
snorting  and  clanking  of  chains,  I  ran  as  fist  as  I  could,  my  hair 
standing  on  end.  I  had  gone  but  a  short  distance  before  I  came 

O  O 

in  contact  with  some  other  kind  of  an  animal,  and  again  fell 
prostrate  to  the  ground.  Now  fear  seized  me,  and  with  sweat 
dripping  from  me,  I  started  with  all  speed.  Again  I  heard  the 
clanking  of  chains,  and  thinking  the  '  Old  Fellow '  himself  was 
at  my  heels,  I  ran  into  a  shed  and  braced  myself  against  the 
door.  I  remained  in  this  situation  until  I  heard  the  voices  of 
the  other  boys  going  to  the  mines,  when  I  went  out  and  told 
them  how  I  had  been  frightened.  They  laughed  at  me,  and 
said  that  they  had  been  frightened  in  the  same  manner,  and  told 
me  what  had  frightened  me  was  nothing  more  than  two  jack- 
asses, owned  by  my  uncle,  that  had  lain  down  for  the  night, 
and  had  been  suddenly  startled  by  my  running  on  to  them,  and 
being  breechy  they  were  clogged,  a  chain  running  from  one  foot 


28  HARD   TIMES. 

to  another.  I  joined  the  hoys  in  a  good  langh,  and  we  went  to 
the  mines. 

In  these  mines  the  water  was  some  six  inches  deep.  Working 
in  this  water  my  clothes  would  be  soaked  through ;  it  being 
cold  weather,  when  I  went  home  my  clothes  would  freeze  stiff, 
and  rub  the  skin  off  my  legs,  making  it  very  painful  for  me  to 
walk.  These  mines  I  would  go  into  Monday  morning,  and 
would  not  see  the  sun  again,  only  by  glimpses  up  through  the 
shaft,  until  the  next  Sunday  morning,  as  I  used  to  go  in  before 
it  was  light  and  leave  the  mines  after  sunset. 

I  was  now  about  eleven  years  old,  but  much  larger  and 
stronger  than  boys  usually  are  at  that  age. 

About  this  time,  a  cousin,  who  lived  under  the  same  roof  with 
me,  came  to  work  in  the  mines ;  whose  mother  always  opposed 
strongly  his  going  into  the  mines,  but  \vhen  she  found  that  I 
stood  the  labor  so  well,  and  that  I  grew  stronger  and  more  ro- 
bust, she  at  last  gave  her  consent  for  her  son  to  work  in  them. 

He  was  very  delicate,  and  after  working  in  the  mines  a  short 
time,  in  the  water,  he  took  cold,  which  brought  on  a  cough, 
from  which  he  never  recovered.  He  was  naturally  timid,  and 
as  we  passed  through  '  Stock's  Lane,'  I  always  used  to  go  for- 
ward. About  this  time  there  were  stories  circulating  of  a  wild 
man  having  been  seen  here,  and  he  was  more  than  usually  timid. 
As  we  were  going  through  this  lane  one  morning,  to  the  mines, 
early,  before  any  colliers  had  arrived,  we  saw  a  bright  light  is- 
suing from  one  of  the  cabins  near  the  pit ;  and  looking  in  we 
saw  two  men,  one  had  a  long  beard  reaching  down  to  his  breast. 
'That's  the  wild  man,'  said  I,  and  then  running  to  the  pit,  I 
seized  the  rope  that  went  down  the  pit,  and  slid  down  into  the 
mines.  My  cousin  followed  ;  we  were  both  scared,  and  ran  and 
hid  until  the  miners  began  to  come ;  and  then  we  came  out  and 
told  them  what  we  had  seen.  The  men  were  probably  travel- 
ers, who  went  into  a  turf  cabin  to  rest  for  the  night.  My 
cousin  had  the  skin  worn  off  his  hands  so  badly  by  sliding  down 
the  rope,  that  he  was  unable  to  work,  and  went  home  and 


DANGERS  IN  THE  PIT.  29 

uever  came  back  to  the  mines  again.  A  short  time  after  this,  I 
was  working  in  the  mines  one  morning,  when  suddenly  the  roof 
broke  down,  and  I  was  buried  in  the  dirt ;  but  one  of  the  col- 
liers near  me,  seized  hold  of  my  legs  and  pulled  me  out.  I  was 
bruised  badly,  and  wished  to  go  home,  but  my  master  would 
nut  let  me.  When  I  went  home  at  night,  I  told  my  grand- 
mother, and  she  kept  me  at  home  t\vo  days.  While  out  those 
two  days,  as  it  was  about  the  time  to  celebrate  the  'gunpowder 
plot,'  I  got  me  a  large  iron  cannon  and  some  powder,  and  when 
I  went  into  the  mines  I  took  the  cannon  and  powder  with  me. 
I  loaded  it,  jamming  in  stones  and  dirt;  the  colliers  were  most 
of  them  drunk,  celebrating,  and  they  dared  me  to  fire  it  off.  I 
took  a  candle,  and  while  the  men  were  staggering  around  me,  I 
touched  the  powder.  The  cannon  burst,  and  the  pieces  were 
blown  in  almost  every  direction,  but  none  of  us  were  struck  by 
the  pieces.  For  some  time  I  worked  in  these  mines,  no  serious 
accidents  occurring,  although  hardly  a  day  passed  without  some 
slight  accidents  happening.  The  following  is  taken  from  Tom- 
linson's  Cyclopedia: 

'The  accidents  in  the  coal-pits  are  very  numerous.  Accord- 
ing to  one  return,  for  every  one  hundred  men  employed,  seven- 
ty-two accidents  occur  annually,  of  which  five  are  fatal.  The 
accidents  are  almost  entirely  bruises  and  broken  limbs,  arising 
from  the  falling  down  of  the  coal  and  heavy  materials  from  the 
mine.  These  accidents  can  only  be  obviated  by  a  safer  system 
of  extracting  the  minerals,  by  a  liberal  supply  of  timber  and 
lights,  and  by  prudence  and  caution  on  the  part  of  the  work- 
men and  ovei'lookers.  Such  accidents  are  most  numerous  in 
mines  where  middle  men,  or  butties,  are  allowed  ;  they  take  the 
contract  for  a  piece  of  work  from  the  proprietor,  and  give  it 
out  to  the  men,  and  it  is  their  interest  to  do  the  work  as  cheap- 
ly as  possible,  without  any  regard  to  the  safety  of  the  men.' 

A  few  honorable  exceptions  are,  however,  mentioned  in  the 
Parliamentary  Report.  One  of  these  is  the  case  of  a  man  named 
Mason,  whose  pit  had,  for  a  long  period,  been  almost  entirely 


30  RELIGION  IN  TUE  PIT. 

free  from  accidents,  and  the  reason  assigned  by  the  men  was, 
that  they  met  together  to  pray  every  day  in  the  dinner  hour. 
'  About  one  o'clock  the  drink  goes  down  the  pit,  and  if  a  man 
is  not  at  the  place  of  prayer  in  ten  minutes  after,  he  forfeits  his 
drink.  They  sing  and  pray,  and  ask  a  blessing  on  what  they 
are  going  to  have,  and  then  they^sit  down  in  the  road  and  eat 
their  dinner  and  drink  their  beer ;  and  after  dinner  one  reads 
out  of  the  Scriptures  and  explains  it,  and  tells  the  others  what 
the  preacher  has  said  about  it.  Sometimes  they  get  God's 
spirit  among  them  very  much,  and  sometimes  less  so.'  Very 
few  of  these  men  could  read,  and  it  was  stated  that '  a  man 
could  not  be  allowed  to  join  in  singing  and  praying  unless  he 
was  thought  to  be  living  as  a  man  ought  to  do.'  To  work  in 
these  mines,  the  colliers  have  to  exercise  much  caution,  and  an 
experienced  workman  can  tell  immediately,  by  sounding  the 
roof,  if  the  dirt  is  likely  to  fall  in  ;  and,  if  so,  they  support  it 
with  timber.  While  standing  under  the  roof  one  day,  one  or 
two  pebbles  fell  at  my  feet,  and  I  had  barely  time  to  spring 
away  from  the  spot  before  some  two  or  three  tons  of  dirt  and 
coal  fell  with  a  crash,  on  the  very  spot  where  I  had  been  stand- 
ing. I  went  immediately  to  the  mouth  of  the  pit,  and  called 
for  the  'banksman;'  and  just  as  I  looked  up,  he  dropped  his 
'tug,'  as  it  is  called,  (a  piece  of  iron  used  to  haul  in  the  loaded 
corves  as  they  are  hoisted  up,)  which  struck  me  on  my  fore- 
head, knocking  me  down  instantly.  In  a  short  time  one  of  the 
colliers  came  along  and  took  me  up.  I  recovered  soon  and 
went  home,  and  my  employer,  finding  that  I  should  not  be  able 
to  work  for  some  time,  hired  another  boy  to  take  my  place, 
which  left  me  without  work  again.  My  grandfather  soon  after 
this  went  to  a  neighboring  town  to  sell  shuttles,  and  while  par- 
taking of  a  lunch  at  an  inn,  a  gentleman  asked  him  if  he  knew 
of  any  boy  that  he  could  hire  to  work  in  the  mines.  This  man 
was  a  steward  or  surveyor  of  coal.  My  grandfather  told  him  that 
he  had  a  boy  who  would  work  with  him,  and  he  agreed  to  give 
me  my  board  and  clothes  for  my  labor.  When  my  grandfather 


CONDITION  OF  TUE  WORKMEN.  31 

returned  home,  he  told  me  what  he  had  done,  and,  as  this  was 
Saturday,  my  employer  came  for  me  the  Monday  morning  fol- 
lowing, and  I  went  gladly  with  him,  for  I  did  not  wish  to  be 
supported  by  charity.  These  mines  that  I  commenced  to  work 
in  were  about  120  yards  deep.  My  work  was  the  same  as  in 
the  other  mines,  only  somewhat  harder.  In  these  mines  was 
the  choke-damp,  so  called  by  miners ;  it  is  a  carbonic-acid  gas, 
of  suffocating  nature.  It  issues  from  certain  veins  in  the  mines, 
and  no  person  can  long  withstand  its  power.  I  have  often, 
when  descending  these  mines,  been  obliged  to  cry  out  for  the 
banksman  to  hoist  me  back,  having  my  candle  go  out,  and  being 
nearly  suffocated  by  the  vapor  arising  out  of  the  pit.  The  sur- 
veyor sometimes  would  not  believe  me,  and  he  would  be  lowered 
down  only  to  be  hoisted  back  again. 

In  these  mines,  in  some  places,  the  bottom  of  the  passage 
would  be  entirely  dry,  while  in  other  places  the  water  would  be 
from  two  to  six  inches  deep.  The  boys  used  to  work  in  the 
mines  naked  above  their  waist,  and  so  begrimmed  would  they 
be  by  the  coal-dust,  that  the  only  way  we  could  distinguish  one 
another  was  by  the  voice.  There  were  besides  the  boys  in 
these  mines,  seven  girls  that  did  the  same  laboi-,  and  were  about 
the  same  ages  of  the  boys.  These  girls  were  bright,  intelligent, 
and  very  pi'etty ;  but  when  at  work  in  the  mines,  a  stranger 
would  have  taken  them  to  be  negro  boys.  One  of  these  girls 
was  the  surveyor's  (my  employer's)  daughter;  she  was  a  very 
pretty  girl.  She  used  to  work  along  side  of  me,  and  oftentimes 
when  my  corve  got  off  from  the  track,  she  would  assist  me  in 
getting  it  on  again.  Soon  after  I  came  into  the  mines,  she  went 
away  to  work  in  the  mills.  I  missed  her  much,  but  I  thanked 
God  that  she  had  got  out  of  the  coal-mines.  Employing  girls 
in  the  coal-mines  was  tolerated  in  England  only  about  sixteen 
years  ago,  and  no  slave  girls  upon  a  southern  plantation  are 
worked  so  hard  as  they  were.  When  very  small,  they  are  put 
into  the  mines ;  usually,  they  are  put  in  when  younger  than 
boys,  for  a  singular  notion  of  the  parents  that  they  are  quick 


32  GIRLS  IN  THE  MINES. 

and  more  capable  of  making  themselves  useful.  The  following 
extract  will  show  how  they  are  worked  in  the  coal-mines. 

'  The  child  has  to  descend  a  nine-ladder  pit  to  the  first  rest, 
where  a  shaft  is  sunk  to  draw  up  the  basket  or  tub  of  coal  filled 
by  the  bearers ;  she  then  takes  her  creel  or  basket,  a  basket 
formed  to  the  back,  not  unlike  a«cockle-shell,  flattened  towards 
the  neck,  so  as  to  allow  lumps  of  coal  to  rest  on  the  back  of  the 
neck  and  shoulders,  and  pursues  her  journey  to  the  wall-face,  or 
room  of  work,  as  it  is  called.  She  then  lays  down  the  basket, 
into  which  the  coal  is  rolled,  and  a  man  lifts  the  burden  to  her 
back.  The  tug  or  strap  is  placed  over  the  forehead,  and  the 
body  bent  into  a  semi-circular  form  in  order  to  stiffen  the  arch; 
large  lumps  of  coal  are  then  placed  on  her  neck,  and  she  com- 
mences her  journey  with  her  burden  to  the  pit  bottom,  first 
hanging  her  lamp  to  the  cloth  crossing  her  head.  One  girl,  no- 
ticed by  the  commissioner  to  examine  coal  mines,  had  first  to 
travel  about  eighty-four  feet  from  the  wall-face  to  the  first  lad- 
der, which  is  eighteen  feet  high  ;  leaving  the  first  ladder,  she 
proceeded  along  the  main  passage  (probably  three  and  a  half  to 
four  feet  high)  to  the  second  ladder,  till  she  reached  the  pit 
bottom,  when  she  casts  her  load  into  the  tub.  This  one  jour- 
ney is  called  a  rake.  The  height  ascended  and  the  distance 
along  the  roads,  added  together,  exceed  the  height  of  St.  Paul's 
Cathedral,  and  it  often  happens  that  the  tugs  break,  and  the 
load  falls  upon  those  girls  that  are  following.' 

Many  hearts  were  made  happy  when  an  act  of  Parliament 
prohibited  females  from  working  in  the  mines,  also  boys  under 
ten  years  of  age,  with  a  heavy  penalty  attached  to  it,  for  those 
who  violated  the  law.  In  this  mine  that  I  worked  in  now,  they 
used  a 'gin,'  so  called,  for  hoisting  up  the  coal;  this  gin  was 
worked  with  ponies.  One  night  some  evil-minded  person  went 
to  the  mine  and  nearly  severed  the  rope  used  for  hoisting  and 
lowering  the  corves  down  into  the  pit ;  it  was  not  noticed  by 
the  workmen  in  the  morning,  as  the  rope  was  carefully  wound 
around  the  axle,  so  that  the  place  where  it  was  cut  could  not  be 


TEHRIBLE  ACCIDENT.  33 

perceived.  The  next  morning  two  boys  jumped  into  the  car  to 
be  lowered  down  the  pit;  they  had  descended  but  a  short  dis- 
tance, when  the  rope  parted  and  they  were  precipitated  some 
eighty-three  yards  to  the  first  chamber,  and  crashing  through 
this  they  went  down  with  the  car  thirty-five  yards  to  the  bot- 
tom of  the  pit,  and  were  instantly  killed.  They  could  not  be 
recognized,  as  they  were  so  crushed  to  pieces.  I  usually  arrived 
at  the  pit  as  soon  as  any  of  the  boys,  but  that  morning  I  was 
late,  and  by  being  late  I  saved  my  life.  A  short  time  after  this 
sad  accident,  a  small  boy  that  worked  near  me,  about  twelve 
years  old,  had  loaded  his  corve  too  much  behind ;  he  stooped 
over  to  pull  the  coal  forward,  when  a  piece  of  iron  ore,  weigh- 
ing some  two  hundred  pounds,  fell  and  struck  him  on  the  back 
of  his  head,  instantly  killing  him.  Some  of  the  colliers  carried 
him  to  the  mouth  of  the  pit,  where  he  was  hoisted  to  the  top. 
I  was  a  short  distance  from  the  spot  at  the  time  of  the  acci- 
dent, and  was  ever  reminded  of  it  when  passing  the  place 
where  it  happened.  My  employer  got  the  consent  of  my  grand- 
father to  bind  me  to  him  until  I  was  twenty-one  years  of  age, 
and  I  willingly  acquiesced  in  the  arrangement,  as  I  did  not  wish 
to  be  a  burden  to  my  grandparents ;  but  my  grandmother  would 
not  consent  to  the  arrangement,  and  she  came  and  took  me 
home,  and  again  I  was  without  work.  My  grandfather  could 
not  keep  me  without  work,  as  they  could  barely  make  a  living 
while  I  was  at  work ;  so  in  a  few  days  I  started  in  pursuit  of 
work.  I  arose  early  one  morning,  and  so  earnest  was  I  to  obtain 
a  situation,  that  I  could  not  stop  to  eat  my  breakfast,  but  took 
a  biscuit  in  my  hand,  and  taking  my  hat,  I  was  going  out  of  the 
house,  when  my  grandmother  called  me  back  and  said,  '  Isaac, 
take  my  blessing  before  you  go;'  and  standing  upon  the  door- 
step, she  put  her  thin  hand  upon  my  head,  and  said,  *  God  pre- 
serve thee  from  danger,  and  may  thee  obtain  some  work,  that 
we  may  be  kept  from  starving;'  and,  as  she  turned  from  me,  I 
felt  a  tear  drop  upon  my  head.  How  that  tear-drop  thrilled 
me !  It  seemed  to  open  a  fountain  of  tears,  and  they  burst 
3 


34  GRANDMOTHER'S  BLESSING. 

from  my  eyes;  wiping  them  away  with  my  jacket-sleeve,  I 
darted  from  the  house  and  ran  until  I  was  out  of  sight,  and  then 
I  seated  myself  beside  the  road  and  wept  freely.  I  had  never 
seen  my  grandmother  so  agitated  before,  and  I  thought  that 
poverty  must  be  staring  them  in  the  face.  I  remained  in  thought 
a  short  time,  but  I  knew  that  I  must  obtain  work.  I  continued 
my  journey  about  two  miles,  to  some  mines,  where  I  obtained 
work.  I  hired  out  with  a  collier  for  eight  shillings  a  week.  This 
man  was  a  hard  master,  and  a  hard  drinker.  In  the  pit  where  I 
worked,  the  water  was  continually  dripping  from  the  roof — the 
miners  called  it  raining,  so  that  in  a  short  time  after  going  into 
the  mines,  we  would  be  soaking  wet.  The  water  in  this  pit  va- 
ried from  two  inches  to  a  foot  in  depth,  and  in  some  places  it 
had  stood  so  many  years  that  it  was  cankery,  or  corroded,  and 
working  in  it  barefooted,  it  would  eat  the  skin  off  between  my 
toes,  making  it  very  painful.  Working  in  this  water,  I  took 
cold,  and  it  settled  in  one  of  my  knees,  and  it  swelled  so  badly 
that  my  grandmother  cut  ray  pants  open  and  bandaged  it 
around,  and  in  this  condition  I  walked  two  miles  to  and  from 
my  work.  This  was  in  the  cold  season,  and  I  froze  my  feet 
badly,  so  that  I  had  to  stay  at  home.  The  swelling  on  my  knee 
grew  worse,  and  my  grandparents  thought  it  would  be  a  white 
swelling ;  but  fortunately  my  knee  soon  got  well. 


CHANGE  OF  MASTERS.  35 


CHAPTER    V. 

I  WAS  confined  to  the  house  some  three  weeks  or  more ;  but 
as  soon  as  I  could  get  about,  I  had  to  obtain  work  again.  I 
did  not  want  to  go  into  the  mines  again,  if  I  could  obtain  work 
at  any  other  place.  I  spent  some  three  days  trying  to  get 
work,  but  was  not  successful.  By  some  I  would  be  greeted 
with  a  gruff  reply,  that  they  wanted  no  small  boys  ;  by  others' 
no  notice  would  be  taken  of  my  request,  and  I  would  leave 
without  repeating  the  inquiry.  But  I  must  obtain  work,  I  said 
to  myself,  and  I  must  go  to  the  mines  again ;  so  I  went  to 
'  shelve  pit,'  opposite  an  inn  called  the  '  Shoulder  of  Mutton,' 
about  one  mile  from  home,  where  I  got  a  job  that  kept  me  at 
work  about  a  month,  when  the  mines  closed  up,  and  I  was  left 
upon  my  grandparents  again. 

I  went  to  L ,  and  hired  out  with  a  collier  for  nine  shil- 
lings a  week.  This  mine  was  worked  on  a  different  scale  from 
the  others.  There  was  no  shaft  sunk  into  the  ground ;  but  a 
passage  was  made  into  the  side  of  a  high  bluff,  at  an  angle  of 
forty-five  degrees.  Windlasses  were  used  at  the  outside  of  the 
passages.  There  were  two  tracks,  one  for  the  corves  to  go 
down,  and  the  other  for  the  loaded  corves  to  go  up.  In  this 
mine  twenty-five  boys  and  fifteen  colliers  worked.  The  dis- 
tance down  the  inclined  plain  was  fifty  yards ;  and  from  the 
bottom  there  was  a  level  road  about  one  mile  long.  The  bed 
of  coal,  when  I  came  into  the  mine,  had  run  out,  and  they  had 
come  to  a  solid  ledge  of  iron  ore,  through  which  we  had  to 
blast.  To  make  a  blast,  they  drill  a  hole  about  one  yard  deep, 
which  is  filled  nearly  full  of  powder,  and  in  the  top  is  jammed 
coal-dust,  and  then  it  is  ready  for  blasting.  We  had  gone  some 
twenty  feet  into  this  ore,  when  one  day,  as  we  were  making  a 


36  EXPLOSION  IN  THE  MINES. 

blast,  I  took  the  canister  of  powder  from  my  employer,  and 
went  some  twenty  yards  to  a  passage  that  led  to  the  left,  where 
I  should  be  safe  from  the  explosion. 

I  was  in  such  haste  to  get  away  from  danger  that  I  left  my 
corve  in  the  passage,  which  was  only  a  trifle  wider  than  the 
corve.  The  collier  had  lighted  the  fuse,  and  was  hastening 
away  from  the  blast,  when  he  came  to  my  corve,  by  which  he 
managed  to  squeeze  himself;  but  so  enraged  was  he  at  ray  care- 
lessness in  leaving  it  in  the  way,  that  when  he  arrived  where  I 
was,  he  ordered  me  to  go  out  and  take  it  away.  I  was  afraid 
to  go,  and  I  was  still  more  afraid  to  stay ;  I  turned  to  go,  and 
had  just  got  into  the  passage  when  the  explosion  took  place, 
and  one  large  piece  of  iron  ore  come  with  such  force  as  to  go 
through  my  corve,  which  was  of  iron,  and  I  had  just  time  to 
dodge  back  into  the  passage  to  the  left,  when  it  went  past  me 
with  part  of  the  corve.  It  was  a  terrible  explosion.  The  roof 
shook  over  our  heads,  and  for  some  time  I  thought  it  would 
come  down  and  bury  us  forever  in  the  passage.  We  all  stood 
trembling  there  while  it  thundered  back  and  forth  in  the  pas- 
sages. By  the  dim  light  of  our  candles  I  could  see  my  employ- 
er's face,  which  was  as  pale  as  death.  As  the  noise  ceased,  my 
employer  said, '  This  won't  do — it  is  too  risky — we  shall  have 
to  give  it  up.  If  I  am  not  mistaken,  we  shall  find  that  much 
of  the  roof  is  thrown  down.'  We  hastened  toward  where  the 
blast  was  made,  but  we  could  not  reach  the  place,  as  the  roof 
had  fallen  in,  and  completely  filled  the  passage  so  that  we  could 
not  proceed.  The  'boss'  came  to  the  conclusion  that  it  would 
not  pay  to  work  the  mine,  and  by  doing  it,  run  the  risk  of  life ; 
he  therefore  took  me  with  the  rest  of  the  boys,  and  carried  us 
to  another  mine  a  short  distance  from  this  one. 

From  the  new  mine  that  I  now  worked  in,  there  was  a  sub- 
terranean passage  to  the  last  one  I  worked,  or  the  one  we  blast- 
ed, and  I  have  often,  with  the  other  boys,  gone  through  this 
passage  to  the  mine.  This  passage  was  the  means  of  saving 
my  life,  with  that  of  my  employer.  One  forenoon,  a  short  time 


NARROW  ESCAPE  FROM  THE  FIRE  DAMP.  £7 

after  I  had  commenced  work  in  this  mine,  as  there  was  no  coal 
to  hoist  out,  the  banksman  was  away,  and  my  employer  and 
myself  went  into  the  mine  alone,  prospecting  for  coal.  It  was 
a  muggy  morning,  the  air  clamp  and  heavy,  and  we  had  been 
in  the  mine  but  a  short  time  before  the  choke  damp  began  to 
affect  me  some ;  my  candle  flickered  and  went  out.  I  ran  to 
the  collier,  who  was  but  a  short  distance  from  me,  and  told  him 
that  my  light  had  gone  out,  and  that  I  could  not  stand  the 
damp.  Pie  began  to  rave  and  curse  the  damp,  but  while  talk- 
ing, his  own  light  went  out,  and  we  were  left  in  almost  total 
darkness,  excepting  the  glimmering  light  that  came  down  the 
shaft.  The  damp  now  began  to  affect  my  employer.  '  What 
shall  we  do?'  he  asked.  I  took  hold  of -the  rope  to  ascend  the 
shaft,  but  I  was  weak,  my  strength  failed  me.  I  was  always 
expert  in  going  up  a  rope,  and  had  many  times  ascended  the 
shaft  in  this  manner,  but  my  hope  was  now  cut  off  here.  We 
cried  out  for  help,  but  none  came  !  We  were  fast  failing  under 
the  influence  of  this  fell  destroyer,  when  I  thought  of  the  sub- 
terranean passage !  ' We  are  saved !'  I  said.  'What  do  you 
mean  by  saved  ? '  said  my  employer.  '  That  our  lives  are  saved. 
I  know  a  passage  that  will  carry  us  safely  out,  if  I  can  find  it 
in  the  darkness,'  I  said.  '  Well,  for  God's  sake,'  he  exclaimed, 
'  let  us  find  it  quick,  for  I  can  hardly  stand.' 

'Follow  me,'  I  said,  'and  we  will  try;'  and  upon  our  hands 
and  knees  (the  passage  would  not  admit  of  standing  erectj,  we 
groped  our  way  along.  There  was  a  trap-door  that  opened 
into  the  passage  that  I  wanted  to  find.  I  hurried  along  as  fast 
as  1  could  (with  a  piece  of  rope  tied  to  my  waist,  the  end  of 
which  my  employer  had  hold  of,  afraid  that  unless  he  did,  I 
should  get  off,  and  leave  him  to  perish)  to  find  the  trap-door. 
We  groped  in  the  darkness  some  distance.  Once  or  twice  I 
struck  my  head  against  the  roof  with  such  force  that  it  stunned 
me, and  I  fell  flat  upon  the  bottom  of  the  passage;  but  my  em- 
ployer coming  up  with  me,  would  lift  me  up  and  push  me  for- 
ward. Before  reaching  the  trap-door,  I  knew  that  we  must 


88  SAVING  MY  EMPLOYER. 

tnkc  a  passage  to  the  left,  and  I  began  to  think  that  I  had  taken 
the  wrong  pass.-ige,  and  was  just  on  the  point  of  turning  back 
when  I  came  to  the  one  to  the  left.  As  I  turned  the  corner,  I 
knew  that  I  was  but  a  short  distance  from  the  door,  and  hope 
revived — but  I  felt  the  rope  tighten  around  ray  waist !  I  turned 
and  spoke  to  my  employer,  but  received  no  answer.  I  hurried 
to  where  he  lay  senseless  upon  the  bottom  of  the  passage!  I 
commenced  to  beat  him  with  my  fists,  and  to  halloo  in  his  ears: 
'  Courage ! '  I  said,  '  I  have  found  the  door,  in  a  few  moments 
we  shall  be  safe.  Follow  tnc ! '  I  hurried  forward  again,  my 
employer  following  me,  and  soon  came  to  the  trap-door.  I 
swung  it  open,  and  the  fresh  air  rushing  in,  revived  me,  and  I 
could  not  help  falling  upon  rny  knees  and  thanking  God  for  his 
care  over  me,  and  for  our  safe  escape.  I  crept  through  the 
trap-door,  and  looked  back  for  my  employer,  but  lie  had  fainted 
at  the  opening  of  the  door.  1  pulled  him  through,  r.nd,  shut- 
ting the  door,  ran  to  where  some  miners  were  at  work  (this 
passage  was  high  enough  to  stand  erect)  and  got  some  water, 
and  dashing  it  in  his  face,  soon  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  him 
recover.  We  walked  out  to  the  mouth  of  the  passage,  and  sat 
down  on  the  ground  until  we  had  fully  recovered.  This  was  a 
narrow  escape  for  us,  but  then  the  whole  business  is  a  risk,  and 
in  no  part  of  it  is  a  mr.n  safe,  as  nifty  be  seen  by  the  daily  re- 
ports. 

Dr.  Buckland,  the  celebrated  geologist  says  of  mining:  'Col- 
lieries are  exposed  to  an  infinite  number  of  accidents,  against 
which  no  caution  can  guard.  The  chances  of  explosion  have, 
it  is  true,  been  a  good  deal  lessened  by  the  introduction  of  Sir 
Humphrey  Davy's  lamp ;  and  some  mines  that  are  wrought,  but 
for  the  invention  of  this  admirable  instrument,  must  have  been 
entirely  abandoned.  But,  besides  explosions,  which  are  still 
every  now  and  then  occurring  from  the  carelessness  of  the 
workmen  and  other  contingencies,  mines  are  very  liable  to  be 
destroyed  by  creeps,  or  by  sinking  of  the  roof  and  by  drowning, 
or  the  eruption  of  water  from  old  workings  through  fissures 


DEATH  OF  MY  GRANDFATHER.  39 

which  cannot  be  seen,  and,  consequently,  cannot  be  guarded 
against.  So  great,  indeed,  is  the  hazard  attending  this  sort  of 
property,  that  it  has  never  been  possible  to  effect  an  insurance 
on  a  coal- work  against  fire,  water,  or  any  other  accident.' 

My  employer  never  went  into  the  mines  again,  and  as  he  did 
not  want  me  any  longer,  he  settled  with  me,  and  I  went  home 
to  my  grandparents.  While  at  home,  my  grandfather  was  taken 
sick ;  this  was  his  first  and  last  sickness.  He  continued  to  fail 
for  three  weeks,  and  when  near  his  end,  my  uncle  Edward  said 
to  my  grandmother,  'He  will  never  speak  again  !'  My  grand- 
mother went  to  the  head  of  the  bed  and  said,  '  Jonas,  how  art 
thou ? '  'I  am  happy !  I  am  happy ! '  he  said,  and  expired. 

This  incident  made  a  deep  impression  upon  me.  I  had  stood 
beside  those  who  had  died — who  had  no  hope  in  Christ;  and 
when  death  came,  they  quailed  before  the  grim  messenger,  and 
with  bitter  oaths  and  awful  groans  they  left  the  earth.  But 
how  great  the  contrast  between  the  death  of  the  sinner  and 
the  Christian.  Calmly  and  silently  the  Christian  meets  death, 
and  feels  happy  to  welcome  him,  knowing  that  to  die  and  be 
with  Christ  is  gain. 

I  felt  sad  at  the  death  of  my  grandfather,  for  I  had  been  with 
him  so  long,  that  I  felt  that  he  was  the  same  as  a  father  to  me. 
Although  my  grandmother  was  spared,  as  she  was  poor,  I 
thought  my  uncle  Edward  would  have  the  control  over  me,  and 
this  made  me  feel  bad,  for  I  knew  that  he  drank  hard,  and  often 
came  home  drunk,  and  would  then  abuse  his  family,  sometimes 
driving  them  out  of  the  house.  I  heard  my  grandmother  pray 
for  him,  that  he  might  give  up  the  intoxicating  cup,  and  that  he 
might  be  saved  from  the  doom  that  awaits  the  drunkard.  Oh! 
the  power  of  prayer!  Who  of  us  can  tell  its  mighty  influence? 
When  we  shall  stand  at  the  judgment-seat  of  Christ,  then  will 
be  unfolded  to  us  the  mysteries  that  we  cannot  now  compre- 
hend. Then  shall  we  more  fully  understand  than  we  now  do, 
the  power  there  is  in  prayer.  The  centurion,  when  he  asked 
Christ  to  heal  his  servant,  said,  'Lord,  I  am  not  worthy  that 


40  STRANGE  CUSTOM  AT  FUNERALS. 

them  shouklst  come  under  ray  roof;  but  speak  the  word  only, 
and  my  servant  shall  be  healed.'  Jesus  said, '  Go  thy  way;  and 
as  thou  hast  believed,  so  be  it  done  unto  thee.'  It  was  the  faith 
of  the  centurion  that  saved  his  servant.  Think  of  this,  ye 
Christians,  who  may  peruse  these  lines,  and  remember  that  your 
prayer  for  the  poor  drunkard  shall  not  be  in  vain. 

It  was  the  custom  then,  at  funerals,  to  have  what  is  called  a 
'funeral  cake,'  and  every  one  that  goes  into  the  house  takes  a 
piece  of  this  cake  as  the  remains  of  him  that  has  passed  away. 
I  remember  that  my  grandfather  was  carried  to  the  Methodist 
church,  where  a  sermon  was  preached ;  from  thence  he  was  car- 
ried to  the  grave,  and  there  the  minister  made  some  remarks — 
spoke  of  my  grandfather  as  being  a  consistent  Christian,  and 
of  his  adherence  to  the  cause  of  Christ  through  difficulties  and 
trials.  The  corpse  was  then  lowered  into  the  grave,  and  a 
hymn  sung,  and  the  company  then  went  to  the  Dolphin  Chapel 
Tavern,  where  they  held  a  '  funeral  burial  drinking,'  as  it  was 
termed.  Each  one  that  went  paid  one  shilling,  which  money 
went  to  pay  for  the  drink.  They  drank  'mulled  beer,'  and  my 
uncle  Edward  drank  so  much  that  he  got  intoxicated,  and  had 
to  be  carried  home.  I  drank  with  the  rest  of  them. 

My  grandmother  now  broke  up  housekeeping,  and  my  uncle 
William  took  all  the  things,  excepting  a  loom  that  my  grand- 
mother kept  to  weave  with.  She  tried  to  get  along  with  weav- 
ing, so  as  to  support  herself  and  me ;  but  we  could  not  earn 
enough  to  support  us,  so  my  uncle  William  took  me  into  his 
charge. 


ABUSED   BY  MY  EMPLOYER.  41 


CHAPTER  VI. 

MY  uncle  Edward  drove  a  team  to  the  coal-mines,  and  pur- 
chased coal,  which  he  would  haul  to  the  village  and  sell.  At 
the  pit  where  he  bought  his  coal,  he  got  me  work,  and  although 
I  was  unwilling  to  go  to  work  in  that  mine,  as  I  knew  what  a 
bad  one  it  was. — passages  very  steep,  so  that  the  boys  were  in 
danger  of  being  run  over  by  their  corves,  and  also  bad  water — 
yet  he  compelled  me  to  go.  The  passage  into  the  mines  (it  was 
an  inclined  plane)  was  just  large  enough  to  admit  one  corve 
with  a  little  to  spare.  I  could  just  squeeze  by  one.  These 
corves  had  brakes  fixed  to  the  wheels  to  keep  them  from  run- 
ning over  the  boys  when  they  went  the  down  grade.  The  col- 
lier that  I  hired  out  with  was  a  tyrannical  fellow.  Working 
one  day,  he  thought  I  was  gone  too  long  with  my  corve,  and 
when  I  came  back,  he  began  to  curse  and  swear  at  me  for  hav- 
ing been  gone  so  long.  I  told  him  that  I  went  as  quickly  as  I 
could,  which  enraged  him,  and  he  told  me  to  come  where  he 
was,  and  help  fill  up  the  corve.  The  boys  were  not  expected  to 
shovel  any  coal,  but  sometimes  when  our  corves  were  not  full 
when  we  came  back  with  the  empty  ones,  we  would  help  fill 
them.  I  went  and  took  the  shovel,  and  commenced  to  fill  my 
corve,  when  my  boss  began  to  strike  and  kick  me,  saying, '  I'll 
learn  you  better  than  to  contradict  me.'  I  thought  he  would 
kill  me!  My  grandmother  told  me  that  when  any  person 
abused  me,  to  tell  them  I  was  an  orphan  boy;  I  therefore  told 
him  I  was  an  orphan  boy,  and  when  I  told  him  this,  he  ceased 
abusing  me.  I  was  not  able  to  work  the  I'est  of  the  day,  but  he 
made  me.  When  night  came,  I  hurried  home  and  told  my 
grandmother  how  my  employer  had  treated  me;  but  all  she 
could  do  was  to  pray  for  me,  which  she  did  earnestly,  and  I  still 


42  STILL  ABUSED-NOW  BY  MY  UNCLE. 

kept  to  work  in  the  mine.  A  short  time  after  my  master  had 
abuse;!  me  so  badly,  I  was  going  into  the  mine,  when  the  brake 
slipped  off  my  wheel,  ami  as  I  could  not  hold  my  corve  from 
going  down  the  passage,  I  had  to  run  as  fast  as  I  could  before 
it,  until  at  a  turn  in  the  passage,  it  struck  against  me,  jamming 
my  head  severely.  I  crawled  up  and  got  upon  a  loaded  corve, 
as  it  was  drawn  up  the  passage,  unknown  to  my  employer,  and 
jumped  off,  and  hurried  home.  When  my  uncle  went  to 
the  mines  after  coal,  my  employer  told  him  that  I  had  run 
away.  My  uncle  then  went  to  the  hous?,  with  a  whip  in  his 
hand,  and  ordered  me  to  go  back  to  the  mine.  I  showed  him 
the  bruises  on  my  head,  an  1  told  him  how  it  was  caused,  and 
that  I  was  not  able  to  go  back ;  he  would  pay  no  regard  to  my 
explanations,  but  ordered  me  back  to  the  mine.  I  ran  behind 
my  grandmother's  loom,  and  my  uncle  came  towards  me  with 
the  whip.  My  grandmother  entreated  him  not  to  strike  me, 
but  he  paid  no  attention  to  her  entre.ities,  but  struck  me  with 
the  whip,  and  told  me  that  unless  I  went  back  to  the  mines  he 
would  horsevyhip  me.  I  started  for  the  mines,  and  he  followed, 
and  when  he  came  up  to  me,  would  cut  me  with  the  whip;  thus 
was  I  compelled,  although  bruised  badly,  to  go  back  and  work 
in  the  mines. 

I  continued  work  in  this  mine  about  one  month;  I  then  went 
to  work  for  nine  shillings  a  week,  four  miles  from  home.  My 
uncle  now  had  no  control  over  me.  This  mine  was  near  '  Pic- 
kle Gate,'  and  near  by  was  an  old  building  that  was  reported  to 
be  haunted,  and  that  many  murders  had  been  committed  there. 
My  uncle  William  was  thrown  out  of  employment,  and  came  to 
work  as  brakeman  on  a  coal-car,  where  I  was ;  and  wishing  to 
get  his  family  near  him,  he  went  to  see  if  he  could  not  get  a 
tenement  to  live  in.  He  went  to  the  owner  of  the  old  building, 
who  told  him  that  he  might  have  the  rent  free  if  he  would  oc- 
cupy it.  My  uncle  thought  it  was  a  generous  offer,  and  imme- 
diately moved  his  family  into  the  old  building,  and  as  it  wat» 
some  distance  to  my  grandmother's,  I  went  to  board  with  him. 


THE  BANDITTI.  43 

When  we  came  home  nights  from  work,  the  children  would 
tell  us  that  they  had  heard  strange  noises  in  the  house,  and  they 
seemed  to  he  frightened,  and  very  loth  to  stay  alone.  In  this 
manner  it  passed  on  several  days,  when  one  night,  as  my  uncle 
and  myself  were  returning  from  our  work,  my  uncle  said  to  me, 
'I  see  a  light  in  the  cellar  window.'  'I  guess  not,'  I  said,  'the 
girls  don't  go  down  cellar.'  But  he  still  persisted  that  he  saw 
a  light,  and  hastening  toward  the  house,  we  went  up  the  stair- 
way, which  was  on  the  outside  of  the  building,  and  opening  the 
door,  'Have  any  of  you  been  down  stairs  with  a  light?'  my  un- 
cle asked.  They  replied  they  had  not.  The  building  was  out 
of  repair,  and  the  only  part  that  was  tenantable  was  the  second 
story.  My  uncle  told  us  to  wait  for  him,  and,  taking  a  lantern, 
started  for  the  cellar;  and  passing  noiselessly  down  the  rotten 
stairs  with  his  lantern  shaded,  he  saw  a  light  issuing  from  the 
key-hole  of  the  cellar-door;  and  stooping  down,  he  looked 
through,  and  saw,  not  more  than  ten  feet  from  him,  four  men, 
one  standing  up,  while  the  others  were  seated  around  on  boxes, 
dressed  like  citizens,  with  the  exception  of  a  three-cornered  cap 
which  they  had  on.  As  my  uncle  was  looking  through,  one 
spoke,  and  said  to  the  person  that  was  standing  up,  'Captain, 
I'll  tell  you  what  it  is,  I'm  not  going  to  risk  my  life  any  longer; 
now  there's  them  young  ones  up-stairs  poking  around;  the  first 
thing  we  know,  we  shall  be  caged.' 

'Well,  Jim,'  said  the  captain,  'we  must  do  something.  You 
know  I've  sent  a  man  here  a  dozen  times  to  make  a  noise,  and 
scare  the  children,  and  get  them  out  of  the  house ;  but  hang 
me  if  they  don't  stick  like  a  leech.  Jones,  there  is  that  lantern 
again ;  this  is  the  second  time  you  have  let  light  strike  the  win- 
dow ;  suppose  some  one  was  passing.' 

'Don't  be  scared,'  said  Jones,  'the  window  is  boarded  up.' 

'  Well,  the  light  might  be  seen  by  some  one  passing,  if  it  is 
boarded  up,'  said  the  captain.  '  But  to  go  on.  I'll  tell  you, 
Jim.  That  fellow  up  stairs  is  some  kin  to  me,  and  I  don't  like 
to  resort  to  harsh  measures ;  but  kin  or  no  kin,  if  he  don't  leave 


44  UNCLE  FRIGHTENED  OUT  OF  HIS  HOUSE. 

soon,  we  will  take  some  measure  to  remove  him.  But  come, 
boys,  wo  must  be  off,  we  have  got  a  job,  you  know,  to-night;' 
and  upon  this,  they  went  to  the  farthest  side  of  the  cellar,  and 
opening  a  door,  passed  out.  My  uncle  was  not  naturally  a 
timid  m:m,  but  he  felt  rather  uneasy  as  he  overheard  them  talk 
so  coolly  of  removing  him  out  of  the  way ;  and  then  the  cap- 
tain said  he  was  some  kin  to  him, — he  could  not  think  of  any 
person  that  was  related  to  him  that  followed  such  a  profession 
for  a  living.  For  some  time  he  was  lost  in  meditation,  but 
arousing,  he  thought  of  his  children  who  needed  his  care.  He 
turned  and  hastened  up  stairs,  where  we  were  anxiously  await- 
ing his  coming.  We  eagerly  asked  him  what  he  had  seen ;  but 
he  told  us  that  he  would  relate  the  circumstances  to  us  in  the 
morning.  After  supper,  he  told  us  to  go  to  bed,  while  he  kept 
watch  over  us.  The  next  day  at  the  breakfast  table  he  told  us 
the  whole  story,  and  that  day  he  moved  his  family  back  to  the 
old  house. 

The  fire-damp  was  in  the  mines  that  I  now  worked  in,  car- 
bureted hydrogen  gas  that  issues  from  veins  in  the  mines. 
Tomlinson's  Cyclopedia  says : 

'The  great  and  terrible  scourge  that  distinguishes  coal  mines, 
and  especially  those  of  the  great  northern  coal-field,  is  the  es- 
cape of  large  quantities  of  fire-damp,  which,  mingling  with  the 
air  of  the  mine  in  certain  proportions,  forms  a  mixture  that  ex- 
plodes on  contact  with  flame.  This  gas  is  much  lighter  than 
common  air,  and  mingles  readily  with  it,  and  when  poured  out 
into  the  workings,  moves  along  with  the  ventilating  current  in 
the  direction  of  the  upcast  shaft.  The  quantity  of  gas  thus 
poured  out  is  considerable,  but  subject  to  great  variations,  some 
seams  being  more  fiery  or  full  of  gas  than  others;  and  in  work- 
ing these  fiery  seams,  it  is  not  uncommon  for  a  jet  of  inflam- 
mable gas  to  issue  from  every  hole  made  for  the  gunpowder 
used  in  blasting.  The  gas  issues  from  these  cavities  with  con- 
siderable noise,  and  forms  what  is  termed  blowers.  These 
.blowers  are  sometimes  so  constant  in  their  action  that  the  gaa 


TERRIBLE  EXPLOSION.  45 

is  collected  and  conveyed  by  a  tube  into  the  upcast  shaft,  con- 
tinuing for  months  or  years  to  pour  out  hundreds  or  thousands 
of  hogsheads  of  fire-damp  per  minute.  When  thus  provided 
for,  the  blowers  are  not  necessarily  a  source  of  danger ;  but 
when  one  of  these  reservoirs,  containing  the  pent-up  gas  of 
centuries,  and  consequently  under  an  enormous  pressure,  is  sud- 
denly broken  open,  the  gas  is  set  free  in  torrents,  and,  mingling 
with  the  air  of  the  mine,  forms  an  explosive  mixture  which  the 
first  spark  or  naked  flame  may  ignite,  and  thus  cause  a  fearful 
destruction,  both  of  life  and  property.  Nor  is  the  explosion 
itself  always  the  thing  to  be  dreaded  most ;  for  the  ignition  of 
the  fire-damp  kindles  the  coal-dust  which  always  exists  in  great 
quantities  in  the  passages,  and,  in  a  moment,  causes  the  mine  to 
glow  like  a  furnace.  This  conflagration  is  succeeded  by  vast 
columns  of  carbonic  acid  gas,  or  choke-damp,  as  it  is  emphati- 
cally called,  from  its  suifocating  nature,  and  this  destroys  those 
whom  the  explosion  had  spared.' 

Near  the  mine  where  I  worked  was  a  small  stream  of  water, 
that  I  have  often  dammed  so  as  to  stop  the  flow  of  the  water, 
and  when  it  had  run  off  below  the  dam,  touch  the  bottom  with 
a  lighted  candle,  and  instantly  the  whole  bed  of  the  stream 
would  be  in  a  flame.  One  morning  there  were  two  men  going 
down  the  shaft  with  a  lighted  rope's  end,  when  the  blaze 
touched  a  vein  of  fire-damp,  and  it  caused  a  terrible  explosion, 
blowing  the  landing  boards  to  the  top  of  the  shaft,  and  the  two 
men  some  fifty  feet  into  the  air,  killing  them  instantly. 

This  sad  accident  made  me  somewhat  afraid  of  the  coal- 
mines, and  I  made  up  my  mind  not  to  work  in  them  any  more. 
I  wem  uome  to  my  grandmother  and  told  her  of  the  awful  ac- 
cident tkat  took  place  at  the  mine,  and  the  conclusion  I  had 
coiKe'JO,  of  not  working  in  the  mines  again  on  any  condition 
wh<iUJva  -  My  uncle  set  me  to  weaving  on  a  '  Jacquard '  loom. 
I  was  now  about  13  years  old.  I  worked  with  my  uncle  a  few 
months,  but  as  I  could  not  make  enough  to  support  me,  I  left 
and  went  to  Bradford,  about  four  miles  distant,  to  work  with  a 


46  DEATH  OF  GRANDMOTHER. 

man  named  Ackroid,  weaving.  I  soon  left  this  man  and  went 
to  work  for  his  brother,  who  agreed  to  give  me  my  board  and 
clothes  for  my  labor.  He  was  a  great  drinking  man.  I  had 
heard  of  him  before  I  went  to  Bradford,  and  if  I  could  have 
done  better  elsewhere,  I  would  not  have  worked  with  him.  He 
used  to  bring  liquor  to  his  house,  where  he  would  sometimes 
treat  me  to  a  drink ;  but  as  he  was  very  snug  I  was  not  treated 
often,  but  he  and  his  wife  would  both  get  drunk  together.  I 
used  to  work  hard  for  this  man,  and  earned  him  fifteen  shillings 
a  week,  and  all  I  received  was  my  board ;  and  as  for  my  clothes 
that  he  was  to  furnish  me,'  all  I  got  were  second-hand  articles 
that  had  seen  their  best  days. 

I  went  home  every  Saturday  night  to  see  my  grandmother, 
and  one  Saturday  night  I  found  her  sick ;  but  Monday  morning 
I  had  to  leave  her,  and  with  tears  in  her  eyes  she  bade  me  fare- 
well, and  told  me  to  remember  the  counsel  she  had  given  me, 
and  be  sure  and  not  go  into  the  army  (this  she  had  many  times 
before  entreated  me  not  to  do),  saying  that  she  should  never 
see  me  again,  she  bade  me  farewell,  as  she  supposed,  and  which 
afterwards  proved  forever.  I  had  to  leave,  although  I  thought 
that  I  should  never  see  her  again  alive.  I  went  back  sorrowful, 
and  stayed  until  the  next  Saturday  night,  then  I  hurried  home 
to  my  grandmother's.  I  found  my  grandmother  dead ;  she  died 
on  the  same  day  of  the  month  that  my  grandfather  did.  She 
was  buried  Sunday,  and  I  stopped  to  the  funeral  and  followed 
her  to  the  grave.  I  saw  her  in  the  coffin,  but  I  did  not  weep. 
I  had  passed  through  so  many  scenes  that  my  heart  was  har- 
dened. Her  remains  were  carried  to  Dolphin  Chapel,  and  a 
funeral  sermon  preached,  where,  just  one  year  before,  I  listened 
to  my  grandfather's  funeral  sermon.  Her  remains  were  then 
carried  to  the  grave,  and  as  they  lowered  her  down  into  the 
ground,  the  tears  began  to  flow,  and  I  thought,  now  I  have  the 
wide  world  before  me — all  my  kindred  that  loved  me  are  gone, 
and  all  I  love, — now  my  home  is  wherever  I  may  roam.  No 
kind  friends  will  weep  at  my  departure ;  no  friendly  tear  be 


BREAKING  MT   WRIST.  47 

shed ;  but  henceforth  I  am  a  wanderer.  But  I  thought  of  what 
my  grandmother  often  told  me,  that  God  was  a  father  to  the 
orphan,  and  that  if  I  loved  Him,  he  would  never  forsake  me. 
When  I  went  back  to  the  mill  I  often  thought  of  those  words, 
and  prayed  that  God  would  take  care  of  me,  and  oftentimes, 
when  drinking  with  a  friend,  the  pale  face  of  my  grandmother 
would  seem  to  come  up  to  reprove  me. 

About  one  month  after  my  grandmother's  death,  I  was  play- 
ing with  some  boys  in  the  mill-yard,  and  was  thrown  dcwvn  and 
broke  my  wrist.  I  wrapped  it  around  with  my  apron,  and  went 
to  my  employer's  house.  I  was  afraid  to  go  in,  and  I  therefore 
sat  down  on  the  door-step.  My  employer's  wife  saw  me  there, 
but  did  not  take  any  notice  of  me,  although  I  was  crying ;  but 
one  of  the  boarders,  named  Daniel  Sharp  (may  God  bless  him 
for  his  kindness  to  me  at  that  time),  asked  me  what  I  was  cry- 
ing about.  I  told  him  that  I  had  broken  my  wrist,  and  did  not 
know  what  to  do,  and  burst  into  tears. 

'Don't  cry,  lad,'  he  said,  'we  will  get  it  fixed  up;  come  with 
me;'  and  taking  me  by  the  hand,  started  off  to  find  a  surgeon 
to  set  my  wrist ;  we  went  a  short  distance,  and  Sharp  led  me 
into  a  physician's  office.  '  Ah ! '  said  the  surgeon,  '  whom  have 
we  here  ? ' 

'A  poor  boy,  who  has  broken  his  wrist,  and  wishes  it  attend- 
ed to,'  said  Sharp. 

'  You  must  seek  some  other  place,'  said  the  surgeon,  '  as  I 
have  a  call  to  make  immediately;  good  day,'  he  said,  and  ad- 
vancing towards  us,  he  fairly  compelled  us  to  go  out  the  door, 
and  deliberately  shut  it  in  our  faces. 

'Blast  his  pictur,'  said  Sharp,  'I  had  a  good  mind  to  have 
knocked  the  contemptible  puppy  down — the  old  snipe  is  as  rich 
as  mud,  and  snug  as  an  oyster ;  he  knew  at  a  glance  that  it 
wasn't  a  paying  job,  and  he  took  that  method  to  get  rid  of  us; 
but  cheer  up,  we  will  try  again.' 

Sharp  led  me  rapidly  by  shops  and  streets  until  we  stopped 
by  a  stairway.  '  There,'  he  said, '  we  will  try  here,  and  see  what 


48  EXPERIENCE   WITH  THE  DOCTORS. 

we  can  do ;'  and  leading  me  up  the  steps,  he  opened  a  door,  and 
walked  into  a  room  where  there  was  a  pleasant-looking  man, 
who  bowed,  and  arose  at  our  entrance.  I  felt  cheered  by  his 
pleasant  look,  and  thought  my  journey  was  over.  'Dr.  Jame- 
son, I  believe,'  said  Sharp. 

'That  is  my  name,'  said  the  occupant;  'can  I  do  anything  for 
you  to-day?' 

'  Can  you  set  this  youngster's  wrist  ? ' 

'  Yes,  I '  but  here  he  stopped,  for  a  girl  came  hastily  in, 

and  handed  him  a  note,  over  which  the  doctor  hurriedly  looked, 
and  said, '  Must  I  go  immediately  ? ' 

'  That  was  my  mistress'  request,'  said  the  girl. 

'  Well,  I  suppose  I  must  go ; '  and  turning  to  Sharp,  said, 
'  Sorry  that  I  cannot  attend  to  the  boy,  but  you  see  this  is  one 
of  my  patients,  and  I  must  attend  to  the  case  immediately.' 

Sharp  said  not  a  word,  but  pulling  me  along,  hurried  out  of 
the  office  and  down  the  stairs. 

'  Well,  my  lad,'  he  said  to  me, '  are  you  tired  ? ' 

'I  am  not  tired  of  walking,'  I  said,  'but  my  arm  pains  me.' 

'  Well,  we  will  try  again ; '  and  hurrying  me  across  the  street, 
he  entered  a  druggist's  store,  and  addressing  the  clerk  who  stood 
behind  the  coimter,  he  asked,  'Is  the  surgeon  within?' 

'  You  will  find  him  in  the  rear  of  the  store,'  he  said,  pointing 
to  the  back  part  of  the  shop. 

We  passed  through  into  an  office,  in  which  was  a  man  with 
the  most  forbidding  countenance  I  ever  beheld.  Not  giving  us 
a  chance  to  speak,  he  said, '  I  am  very  busy,  you  see,  just  now — 
had  to  turn  three  patients  away,'  and  looking  sharply  at  me,  said, 
'  Poor,  I  see,  t'wont  do.  I  can't  afford  to  lose  my  time.  Here, 
John,'  he  said,  opening  the  office  door,  'just  fix  that  compound.' 
Then  turning  to  us,  he  continued :  '  You  see  how  it  is,  I  am 
dreadfully  drove  compounding  at  present.'  He  stood  with  his 
sleeves  rolled  up,  with  a  spatula  in  one  hand,  scales  in  front,  on 
a  table,  while  various  colored  powders  were  heaped  around. 

'A  new  discovery, — entirely  new;  cures  bronchitis  immedi- 


HUMBUG  CONTINUED.  49 

ately,  upon  two  applications;  one  application  effectually  re« 
moves  warts,  and  four  destroys  the  bites  or  stings  of  the  most 
venomous  animal.  How  many  boxes  will  you  have  ? '  he  said, 
addressing  Sharp. 

'  I  don't  want  a  single  box ;  I  want  this  boy's  wrist  set,'  said 
Sharp. 

The  compounder  did  not  pay  any  attention  to  what  Sharp 
said,  but  seemed  to  be  absorbed  in  mixing  the  different  pow- 
ders. 

'  There,  it  is  finished,'  he  continued,  and  taking  a  small  wood- 
en box,  he  filled  it  up,  and  handing  it  to  Sharp,  said,  'there, 
friend,  you  need  not  be  afraid  of  corns.' 

*  Well,  I  am  not  afraid  of  corns,  not  by  a  d d  sight,'  said 

Sharp. 

'  Hold  on,'  said  the  surgeon, '  let  me  explain ;  as  I  said  before, 
you  need  not  be  afraid  of  corns  with  that  box  in  your  pocket 
it  is  a  sure  cure  if  applied  immediately.' 

'  Hang  your  corn  powders ;  I  want  this  boy's  wrist  set,'  said 
Sharp. 

At  this  point  of  the  conversation,  I  noticed  the  clerk  beckon- 
ing us  to  come  out,  and  I  pulled  Sharp  out  into  the  shop. 

'  He  is  out  of  his  head,  poor  fellow ;  he  runs  all  on  compound- 
ing; good  joke,  aint  it?'  said  the  clerk. 

We  thought  it  was  a  poor  joke,  and  went  out;  by  this  we 
were  delayed  half  an  hour. 

'Now,  lad,'  Sharp  said,  'I  will  go  with  you  until  we  get  some 
one  to  attend  to  your  wrist.' 

We  went  a  short  distance  to  another  surgeon's  office,  where 
there  was  an  elderly  man,  with  spectacles  on.  '  Hurt  ? '  he  said. 

'  Yes,  a  broken  wrist,'  said  Sharp.     '  Can  you  attend  to  it  ? 

'  Have  you  anything  to  pay  for  attending  tc  it  ? '  said  the  sur- 
geon, seeing  we  were  dressed  poorly. 

'  This  is  a  poor  boy,  whom  I  found  in  the  road  crying.  I  sup- 
pose he  has  nothing  to  pay  with.  I  am  sure  I  have  not,'  said 
Sharp. 


50  GETTING  WRIST  SET. 

*  You  must  take  him  to  the  Infirmary;  they  will  attend  to 
him  there,  though  you  will  want  a  certificate.  Let  me  see,'  and 
taking  off  my  apron  he  examined  my  wrist,  somewhat  to  my 
discomforture,  after  which  he  wrote  a  line  on  a  piece  of  paper. 
'There,'  he  said,  'you  will  want  two  more  names.  Let  me  see, 
I  will  give  you  the  address  of  two  of  the  nearest  surgeons.' 
And  writing  them  down  on  the  back  of  the  small  slip  of  paper, 
he  handed  it  to  Sharp. 

We  thanked  him,  and  then  went  out  to  find  the  two  surgeons 
to  get  their  names,  which  we  accomplished  without  much  diffi- 
culty. We  went  to  the  Infirmary,  and  I  had  my  wrist  set,  and 
then  I  went  to  my  employer's  house.  I  remained  out  of  the 
mill  three  weeks,  and  then  I  went  to  work  again  with  one  hand 
in  a  sling. 


TROUBLE   WITH  THE  MUFF.  5. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Saturday  night,  after  my  wrist  had  got  well,  I  went  to 
see  my  uncle  William  and  stopped  until  Monday  morning,  when 
I  arose  early  and  started  for  my  work.  I  had  gone  but  a  short 
distance  below  Dolphin  Chapel,  when  I  saw  something  black 
blow  across  the  road.  I  went  and  picked  it  up  and  found 
it  to  be  a  muff.  I  took  it  along  with  me  to  the  tavern  at  foot 
of  Stony  Lane,  that  I  have  referred  to  before,  and  went  in  .Two 
men  were  playing  cards  in  the  bar-room,  and  one  said,  'What 
have  you  got  there  ? '  as  I  held  the  muff  up.  I  told  him  that 
it  was  a  muff  I  had  found  but  a  short  distance  from  the  tavern. 
He  examined  it,  after  which  he  asked  me  how  much  I  would  take 
for  it.  I  replied  that  I  did  not  know  how  much  it  was  worth, 
and  that  I  did  not  know  as  I  had  any  right  to  sell  it,  as  it  was 
not  mine  to  sell.  The  man  laughed,  and  told  me  as  I  had  found 
it,  it  was  mine,  and  that  he  would  give  me  a  half  a  crown  for  it. 
I  told  him  he  might  have  it,  as  I  did  not  know  the  worth  of 
it,  which  I  afterwards  learned  was  twenty-five  dollars,  or 
five  pounds.  But  as  fifty  cents  was  more  money  than  I  ever 
had  of  my  own  at  any  one  time,  I  quickly  took  up  with  the 
offer  that  he  made  me,  and  then  went  to  my  work. 

The  next  day  there  came  out  a  notice  in  the  papers  of  a  high- 
way robbery  having  been  committed  at  such  a  place,  and  a  re- 
ward offered  for  the  recovery  of  a  muff,  etc.  The  same  day, 
two  constables  came  into  the  mill  where  I  was  at  work,  and 
carried  me  to  Bradford  jail,  and  put  me  in  a  small,  damp,  dark 
cell,  and  kept  me  in  that  miserable  place  three  days  and  nights 
(and  long  ones  they  were  to  me,  being  unused  to  stopping  in 
such  places),  to  answer  to  the  charge  of  highway  robbery. 
Not  quite  14  years  of  age,  what  a  precocious  youth  I  must  have 


52  .  IN  PRISON. 

been  to  stop  a  carriage  with  a  gentleman  and  lady,  and  demand 
their  money!  How  sad  I  felt  to  be  confined  in  a  jail,  and  for 
nothing  that  I  had  done  to  deserve  it.  But  I  was  cheered  by 
the  thought,  that  as  I  was  innocent  of  the  crime,  and  that  they 
could  not  sustain  the  charge,  that  I  should  necessarily  be  freed. 
But  how  mistaken  I  was.  I  have  learned  by  bitter  experience 
since,  that  the  innocent  often  suffer  in  this  world,  while  the 
guilty  go  free.  On  the  forenoon  of  the  fourth  day  I  was  brought 
before  the  magistrate,  to  answer  to  the  charge  against  me  of 
highway  robbery.  The  gentleman  and  lady  appeared  against 
me,  but  could  not  swear  that  I  was  the  robber;  yet,  circum- 
stantial evidence,  the  finding  of  the  muff  at  the  tavern,  my 
selling  it  for  half  a  crown,  was  so  strong  against  me,  that  the 
charge  was  sustained,  and  I  was  ordered  to  be  confined  in  jail 
three  weeks,  until  the  session  of  court.  My  heart  sank  within 
me  when  I  heard  the  decision,  and  I  seemed  to  feel  that  every 
one  was  against  me.  The  next  morning  an  officer  came  and 
handcuffed  me,  and  took  me  from  my  cell.  I  was  glad  to  get 
out  of  it,  supposing  that  I  could  not  get  into  a  worse  one,  but 
I  was  mistaken.  I  was  carried  eighteen  miles  to  Wakefield  jail, 
the  worst  prison  in  England,  and  was  there  shown  into  a  large 
room,  where  I  was  told  to  strip.  They  then  brought  me  a  shirt, 
a  pair  of  pants,  with  yellow,  black,  and  green  stripes, — one  leg 
of  which  was  some  inches  shorter  than  the  other;  then  a  vest, 
the  original  color  of  which  could  not  be  determined,  and  to  fin- 
ish, a  pair  of  clogs,  which  were  so  large  that  I  could  step  into 
them ;  and  after  being  rigged  up  in  this  style,  I  was  told  to 
look  in  the  glass.  I  was  somewhat  startled  at  the  change  ef- 
fected in  my  appearance,  in  so  short  a  time.  I  was  generally 
called  decent-looking,  but  I  had  undergone  such  a  transmogri- 
fication, that  I  do  not  think  crows  would  have  ever  troubled  a 
corn-field  with  such  a  figure  as  I  was  stuck  up  in  the  center  of 
it.  After  having  my  head  shaved,  I  was  taken  to  a  miserable 
cell,  with  a  small  cot  in  it,  where  I  was  told  to  make  myself  at 
home,  and  the  officer  went  out  and  locked  the  door  after  him. 


SIGUING  FOR  LIBERTY.  53 

I  looked  around  the  room  to  see  what  I  could  do  to  pass 
away  the  time.  The  cell  was  about  seven  by  nine,  and  my  cot 
occupied  one  corner,  while  in  another  was  a  jug  of  water;  these 
were  all  there  were  in  the  cell.  Through  a  small  grated  window, 
the  light  came  in,  and  by  pulling  my  cot  along  underneath  it, 
I  could  look  out  and  see  the  boys  and  girls  playing  on  the  com- 
mon. It  was  in  the  spiing  of  the  year,  and  all  was  beautiful, 
and  never  before  did  the  earth,  the  sky,  the  flowers,  and  the 
trees  look  so  fair  as  they  did  to  me,  as  I  gazed  out  of  that 
grated  window ! 

Everything  seemed  to  be  at  liberty  but  me,  and  I  was  con- 
fined in  prison,  and  for  what?  I  tried  to  think  what  I  was 
there  for,  but  I  could  give  no  other  reason  than  that  of  finding 
a  muff,  and  selling  it  for  half  a  crown.  As  I  would  ponder  the 
matter  over  in  my  mind,  it  would  cause  my  blood  to  boil  with 
indignation,  and  my  evil  passions  would' be  aroused,  and  a  spirit 
of  revenge  would  be  enkindled  within  me !  When  I  was  lib- 
erated, I  would  seek  out  the  man  who  appeared  against  me, 
and  kill  him.  And  then  again,  I  would  think  of  the  words  that 
my  grandmother  used  to  read  to  me  out  of  the  old  Bible :  *  Do 
good  to  them  that  despitefully  use  you,' — 'Love  your  enemies;' 
and  when  these  thoughts  would  come  over  me,  how  it  would 
still  my  troubled  mind,  -and  quiet  my  angry  passions.  Then  I 
would  gaze  from  my  window,  and  as  the  gentle  breeze  bore  to 
my  ear  the  merry  laughter  of  the  boys  and  girls  on  the  common, 
the  tears  would  course  down  my  cheeks,  and  I  would  wish  that 
I  was  dead.  *  Why  is  it,'  I  said  to  myself,  '  that  every  person 
seems  to  be  against  me,  and  that  I  am  spared  to  be  thus  perse- 
cuted, while  other  boys  have  all  the  privileges  and  enjoyments 
of  life  ?  I  have  as  much  right  to  them  as  they.'  It  seemed  as 
if  I  was  indeed  battling  against  the  world — all  against  me. 
How  unequal  a  warfare  it  is  indeed,  I  thought.  Thus  I  thought 
as  I  walked  the  floor,  and,  rushing  to  my  cot,  I  tried  to  drown 
my  thoughts  in  slumber.  I  sunk  into  a  drowse,  but  my  mind 
was  as  activ.e  as  ever.  It  seemed  as  if  I  was  upon  a  high  prec- 


54  AWFUL  DREAM. 

ipice,  beside  the  ocean,  and  was  opposing  a  foe  that  I  could  not 
perceive,  whose  folds  seemed  to  entwine  around  me,  which  I 
sought  in  every  way  to  elude,  but  found  myself  completely  in 
his  control.  With  superhuman  efforts,  I  endeavored  to  break 
from  his  grasp,  but  after  a  vain  struggle,  I  sank  exhausted  to 
the  earth.  My  strength  returning,  I  arose  to  renew  the  contest, 
but  it  seemed  as  if  my  strength  was  nothing,  compared  with 
the  monster;  but  by  a  lucky  blow,  I  laid  the  monster  prostrate 
at  my  feet,  it  seemed ;  but  as  I  turned  to  hasten  from  the  spot, 
a  strong,  irresistible  power  detained  me,  and  turn  which  way  I 
would,  it  seemed  to  meet  me.  The  ocean  Avas  behind ;  I  turned 
toward  this — some  power  detained  me !  Death,  I  thought,  is  bet- 
ter than  battling  with  an  unseen  foe;  and  springing  from  the 
bluff,  I  went  through  the  air  at  a  frightful  speed — down!  down! 
I  went,  until  I  plunged  deep  into  the  surging  billows!  I  sprang 
from  my  cot,  shivering !  Thank  God,  it  is  all  a  dream !  But 
what  a  frightful  one !  It  was  a  singular  dream  to  me.  Should 
I  heed  it  ?  I  thought  before  the  dream,  that  there  was  one  way 
for  me  to  make  my  escape,  and  that  was  to  take  my  life ;  but  I 
had  not  the  courage  to  think  of  it  now.  My  dream  had  broken 
the  foolish  train  of  thoughts.  It  seemed  to  be  the  voice  of  a 
superior  being  that  spoke  to  me  through  this  singular  and  time- 
ly dream.  It  was  dark  when  I  laid  down  upon  my  cot,  but 
now  the  morning  light  came  into  the  window.  '  Thank  God,' 
I  said  to  myself, '  that  my  grandmother  is  not  alive,  and  that  I 
have  no  friends  to  lament  my  condition;  but  that  I  alone  must 
bear  it ! '  In  this  state  I  continued  through  the  day.  The  next 
day  was  rainy,  and  it  did  not  seem  to  be  so  dreary  within,  as  it 
was  disagreeable  without;  but  toward  night,  the  clouds  parted, 
and  the  sun  shone  out  in  all  its  splendor,  and  the  dew-drops  on 
the  trees  glistened  like  diamonds. 

I  felt  sad  now,  and  miserable,  to  be  thus  deprived  of  the 
common  blessings  of  life !  Never  do  we  know  how  to  prize 
them  until  we  are  deprived  of  them.  The  liberty  to  rove  over 
the  earth,  under  the  broad  canopy  of  heaven,  with  the  whole 


TAKEN  FROM  PRISON.  55 

face  of  nature  before  us, — to  enjoy  all  its  beauties, — to  feel  the 
invigorating  breeze,  and  to  experience  that  enjoyment  and 
pleasure  that  he  alone  can  feel  who  is  at  liberty !  Why  had  I 
not  died  years  ago,  rather  than  to  be  left  here  with  none  to  care 
for  me,  and  none  to  love  me?  Would  that  I  were  buried  be- 
side ray  mother  in  the  grave,  and  covered  over  with  the  cold 
sods  of  earth,  for  how  much  better  would  it  bo  than  to  live,  if 
I  am  freed  at  last,  suspected  and  shunned  by  all  around  me ! 
TIow  shall  I  go  into  the  world  again,  although  innocent  as  I  am 
will  the  world  believe  it?  I  shall  be  pronounced  guilty,  and 
be  ashamed  to  look  the  people  in  the  face  as  I  pass  them  on  the 
street,  for  wherever  I  may  go,  this  deed  which  I  have  not  done, 
but  for  which  I  «im  pronounced  guilty,  will  meet  me,  and  I 
shall  be  pointed  at  with  the  finger  of  scorn.  Oh,  how  often  I 
prayed  that  God  would  take  me  from  the  world ! 

In  this  manner  I  passed  three  long  weeks.  One  morning  I 
was  taken  from,  the  prison,  and  in  company  with  twenty-one 
others,  carried  to  Pomfret,  all  of  us  chained  together  as  crimi- 
nals. I  was  the  smallest  of  the  company.  We  were  carried  in 
a  horse-car,  huddled  together  like  cattle,  and  when  we  arrived 
at  Pomfret,  we  were  put  into  a  large  cell,  or  room  under  ground, 
and  straw  thrown  down  for  us  to  sleep  upon.  The  next  morn- 
ing they  commenced  to  take  out  the  prisoners  to  be  tried  for  the 
ciimes  declared  against  them,  each  one  in  his  order.  Every  one 
that  went  out  before  me  was  sentenced  from  four  to  twenty-one 
years  to  Van  Dieman's  Land.  What  a  dreadful  scene  it  was  to 
witness  the  agony  of  the  poor  fellows,  and  some  of  them,  I  have 
no  doubt,  were  as  innocent  of  the  crimes  charged  upon  them  as 
I  was !  A  blacksmith  welded  an  iron  ring  around  the  ankle  of 
those  that  were  to  be  transported,  as  soon  as  they  came  back. 
As  I  saw  the  poor  fellows  return,  I  thought  that  my  time  would 
come  soon,  and  I  expected  to  get  transported  with  the  rest.  I 
remained  in  this  miserable  hole  three  days  before  my  turn  came, 
and  then  I  was  called  out.  I  was  handcuffed  nnd  taken  to  the 
court-house, — my  handcuffs  taken  off,  my  crime  read  against  me 


56  TRIAL  AND  ACQUITTAL. 

for  committing  highway  robbery  at  such  a  time  and  place,  and 
after  this  was  read  to  me,  I  was  asked,  *  Guilty  or  not  guilty  ? 
I  did  not  know  the  meaning  of  guilty,  and  while  I  stood  look- 
ing at  the  people  around,  a  gentleman  told  me  to  say,  *  Not 
guilty,'  which  I  did ;  but  if  he  had  told  me  to  say  *  Guilty,'  I 
should  have  said  it  as  quickly.  I  was  then  asked  if  I  had  any 
counselor,  or  any  friends  to  speak  for  me.  A  very  righteous  in- 
quiry,— confined  three  weeks  in  jail,  and  seeing  no  one  in  all  that 
time  to  speak  to,  but  the  man  who  brought  me  my  food.  I  was 
asked  if  I  had  anything  to  say  for  myself.  I  told  them  that  I 
did  not  do  the  deed  that  was  charged  against  me, — that  I  was 
going  to  my  work  when  I  saw  the  muff  blow  across  the  road, 
and  that  I  picked  it  up  and  carried  it  to  the  tavern,  and  there  I 
sold  it  for  half  a  crown  to  a  man  in  the  bar-room,  as  I  was  igno- 
rant of  its  value, — that  I  had  no  friends,  neither  father  nor  moth- 
er, sister  nor  brother,  grandmother  nor  grandfather,  and  that  \ 
was  alone  in  the  world.  This  I  told  with  tears  in  my  eyes, 
which  created  much  feeling  for  me.  Witnesses  were  called,  but 
the  gentleman  did  not  appear  against  me  to  sustain  the  charge, 
and  I  have  no  doubt  he  felt  ashamed  of  the  part  he  had  taken 
in  the  matter,  and  therefore  dropped  it  where  it  was.  I  nevei 
believed  that  they  had  a  muff  stolen  from  them,  but  to  raise  an 
excitement,  he  advertised  the  muff  in  the  manner  he  did,  hav- 
ing no  idea  that  it  would  be  carried  so  far.  As  no  one  appeared 
against  me,  I  was  taken  to  the  room  under  ground,  and  kept 
there  that  day,  but  as  no  one  appeared,  1  was  liberated  the  next 
morning. 

How  happy  I  felt  when  I  got  into  the  world  again !  I  went 
into  a  large  public  square,  and  there  I  told  a  man  that  I  had 
just  got  out  of  prison,  and  had  no  money,  nor  friends  to  apply 
to  for  help,  and  that  I  was  some  thirty-six  miles  from  the  place 
where  I  worked.  He  told  me  to  go  back  to  the  court-house, 
and  tell  them  my  condition.  I  went  back  as  he  told  me,  and 
stated  my  case,  and  was  given  eighteen  pence,  or  one  halfpenny 
a  mile,  to  carry  me  back  to  my  employers.  The  first  thing  I 


ALL  MY  CAKES  GONE.  57 

did  after  I  received  the  money  was  to  go  into  a  shop  where 
they  sold  pies  and  cakes,  and  get  something  to  eat;  I  spent 
about  one-half  my  money — filled  my  pockets  and  hands  full  of 
cakes,  and  started  on  my  journey.  It  was  a  beautiful  morning, 
and  the  road  was  a  fine  one,  and  for  some  distance  trees  were 
upon  both  sides,  which  completely  shaded  it.  Before  I  had  gone 
two  miles,  I  had  eaten  all  my  cakes,  but  I  soon  came  to  a  small 
village,  and  I  here  invested  the  balance  of  my  money  in  eata- 
bles, and  these  I  ate  up  before  I  had  gone  much  further.  Feel- 
ing tired,  I  sat  down  beside  the  road  until  I  saw  a  man  coming 
in  a  wagon.  I  asked  him  if  he  would  let  me  ride  a  short  dis- 
tance with  him ;  he  gave  his  consent,  and  stopped  his  horse,  and 
I  clambered  into  the  back  part  of  the  wagon. 


68  BEGGING  MY  WAY  HOME. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


jogged  along  about  seven  miles  to  bis  house,  though  1 
could  have  walked  the  same  distance  in  about  the  same  time, 
when  I  thanked  him,  and  got  out  of  the  wagon,  and  continued 
on  my  journey.  It  was  getting  towards  noon,  and  I  began  to 
feel  hungry.  I  had  no  money  nor  friends  to  apply  to,  and  I 
therefore  came  to  the  conclusion  to  beg.  I  saw  a  small  neat- 
looking  house  but  a  short  distance  before  me,  and  thought  I 
would  try  and  get  something  to  eat ;  I  went  up  to  the  house, 
Jind  knocked  at  the  door.  It  was  opened  by  a  pleasant-looking 
woman,  and  I  asked  her  if  she  would  give  me  something  to 
eat. 

'Where  you  from,  my  boy?'  she  asked. 

What  should  I  do  ?  I  hesitated"  before  speaking,  but  at 
length  I  told  her  that  I  had  just  got  out  of  prison,  where  I  had 
been  wrongfully  kept  by  a  false  charge  made  against  me, — 
thinking  it  was  best  to  tell  the  truth. 

'Come  in,'  she  said;  'you  shall  have  enough  to  eat.  I  r.m 
glad  you  told  me  the  whole  story,  and  I  believe  it,  because  a 
boy  would  not  be  likely  to  tell  anything  like  that,  unless  it  was 
true,  and  I  believe  you  are  innocent.' 

She  took  me  into  a  room,  and  asked  me  to  be  seated  while 
she  went  to  get  me  something  to  eat.  I  sat  down,  and  she  soon 
returned  with  a  bountiful  supply  of  provisions,  and  set  them  be- 
fore me.  After  I  had  eaten  my  fill,  I  thanked  her  for  her  kind- 
ness, and  was  going  out  of  the  door,  when  she  said  these  words: 
'Always  tell  the  truth,  under  whatever  circumstances  you  may 
be  placed,  my  lad ;  and  remember  that  God  can  always  bring 
you  safely  out,  no  matter  how  dark  and  discouraging  it  may 
look.' 


MEETING  REBUFFS.  59 

I  was  somewhat  astonished  at  these  words !  She  probably 
had  divined  my  thoughts,  while  I  was  hesitating  what  to  say, 
when  I  stood  upon  the  doorstep.  This  was  a  lesson  that  I  did 
not  soon  forget,  and  it  made  a  good  and  lasting  impression  upon 
me.  I  hurried  on  my  way,  strengthened  and  encouraged  by 
the  pleasant  words,  as  well  as  the  food  that  the  woman  ha  1 
been  kind  enough  to  give  me.  I  passed  some  small  villages  on 
my  way,  and  toward  night  I  came  to  quite  a  large  place,  and  as 
I  was  tired,  I  thought  I  had  better  try  and  get  some  place  to  stop 
all  night.  I  went  up  to  a  house  and  asked  a  man  there  if  he 
would  put  me  up  that  night ;  he  said  he  did  not  want  strange 
boys  in  his  house,  as  he  did  not  know  who  they  were, — they 
might  set  his  house  on  fire  in  the  night.  I  asked  him  if  he 
would  let  me  stop  in  his  barn. 

'  No,  I  will  not  let  any  one  sleep  there ;  I  would  not  risk  my 
stock,  hay,  and  carriages ;  why,  I  might  have  them  all  burned 
up!' 

I  turned  away  from  his  door  to  find  some  person  more  hos- 
pitable. I  had  not  gone  far  when  I  came  to  a  fine  house  that 
sat  in  back  from  the  street,  and  I  thought  to  myself,  I  will  go 
in  and  see  what  I  can  do;  I  therefore  opened  the  gate  to  enter, 
when  I  beard  a  gruff"  voice  from  the  grounds,  in  front  of  the 
house,  which  arrested  my  progress.  'We  do  not  allow  strange 
boys  to  come  in  here,  so  you  may  go  out.' 

I  found  that  I  had  got  into  the  wrong  place,  and  hurried  out. 
On  the  opposite  side  of  the  road,  was  rather  a  poor-looking 
house;  I  will  try  here,  I  thought,  and  see  if  I  can  make  out  any 
better;  and  entering  the  gate,  I  went  up  to  the  house,  and 
rapped  at  the  door.  A  little  girl  came,  and  kindly  asked  me  to 
come  in.  I  told  her  that  I  was  hungry,  and  asked  her  if  she 
would  give  me  something  to  eat,  and  let  me  stop  there  that 
night.  She  asked  me  to  come  into  the  house,  and  she  would 
speak  to  her  mother,  who  was  at  work  in  the  garden.  I  went 
in  and  sat  down,  while  the  girl  went  out  to  call  her  mother,  who 
soon  came  in ;  and  while  she  stopped  to  wash  in  the  entry,  I 


60  THE  SOLDIER'S  WIFE'S  PITY. 

heard  her  remark,  'Poor  boy!  he  looks  hungry  and  tired!  Come, 
my  daughter,  set  something  on  the  table  for  him,  and  always 
remember  to  "Do  unto  others  as  ye  would  that  others  should 
do  unto  you.'"  Those  words,  how  often  had  I  heard  them 
said  before, — strange,!  thought,  this  woman  should  repeat  them. 
The  girl  hastily  complied  with  her  mother's  request,  and  placed 
.before  me  good  healthy  food,  to  which  I  did  ample  justice. 

After  eating,  I  asked  the  woman  if  she  would  let  me  stay  all 
night  in  the  house,  telling  her  that  I  would  sleep  on  the  floor. 

*  I  will  let  you  stay,'  she  said, '  but  you  may  sleep  on  a  bed.' 

'  But,  madam,  I  am  a  stranger  to  you,  and  I  have  been  turned 
away  from  two  places ;  and  in  one  place,  I  asked  the  man  to  let 
me  sleep  in  his  barn,  but  he  would  not.' 

'  I  know  how  to  pity  the  unfortunate,  and  I  always  remem- 
ber in  mercy  those  that  have  no  shelter  at  night — no  pillow  to 
lay  their  heads  upon.  My  husband,'  she  continued,  '  is  a  sol- 
dier, and  I  am  a  soldier's  wife ;  and  no  one  that  seeks  shelter  of 
me  shall  be  turned  from  the  door  as  long  as  I  have  a  shelter  to 
cover  me.' 

*  God  bless  you,  madam,'  I  ejaculated,  before  I  was  aware  of 
it. 

*  But  I  suppose  that  you  are  tired,  and  if  you  will  follow  me, 
I  will  show  you  where  you  can  sleep ; '  and  leading  the  way 
into  the  attic,  she  pointed  me  to  a  neat  bed,  and  bidding  me 
good-night,  left  me.    I  slept  sweetly  that  night,  and  when  I 
awoke,  the  sun  was  just  rising.    I  arose  and  dressed  myself, 
and  went  down  stairs,  and  found  the  good  woman  was  up,  and 
the  little  girl  was  setting  the  table.    I  noticed  three  plates"  on 
the  table,  and  I  could  not  help  wondering  who  the  third  plate 
was  for,  as  I  saw  but  two  persons  in  the  house ;  I  took  my  cap, 
and  telling  the  woman  that  I  would  hurry  along,  I  thanked  her, 
and  was  going  out  of  the  door,  when  she  called  me  back,  and 
said: 

'You  must  have  some  breakfast;  what  we  have,  you  are  en- 
tirely welcome  to.' 


BEGGING  STILL  FOB  BREAD.  61 

I  took  off  my  cap  and  sat  down  to  the  table,  and  ate  my 
breakfast  with  them.  I  then  knew  for  whom  the  third  plate 
was  put  on  the  table — it  was  for  me.  I  finished  my  breakfast, 
and  thanking  the  woman  for  her  kindness,  I  took  my  leave,  and 
continued  my  journey.  I  had  some  fourteen  miles  to  travel  to 
reach  Bradford,  and  I  thought  I  would  try  and  go  that  distance 
without  asking  for  anything  to  eat  on  the  way ;  but  when  I  had 
gone  half  the  distance,  I  felt  faint  and  tired,  and  I  sat  down 
beside  the  road  to  recover  myself'  I  rested  about  half  an  hour, 
and  then  resumed  my  journey,  but  I  felt  hungry.  I  had  been 
kept  so  poorly  while  I  was  confined  iu  the  jail,  that  I  could 
now  hardly  restrain  my  appetite.  I  found  that  I  must  beg 
something  to  eat,  and  as  the  nearest  house  was  a  large  brick 
one,  I  felt  rather  backward  about  asking  for  anything  there, 
but  my  appetite  was  clamoring  loudly,  and  I  hastened  up  to 
the  house,  and  rang  a  bell ;  the  door  was  opened  by  a  portly 
gentleman. 

'  Will  you  give  me  something  to  eat  ? '  I  said,  timidly.  He 
stared  at  me  for  some  time,  and  then  remarked : 

*  We  do  not  encourage  beggars  here,'  and  shut  the  door  in 
my  face. 

I  might  have  known  better  than  to  call  there,  I  said  to  my- 
self, it  is  not  the  large  houses  where  the  people  have  large 
hearts,  but  the  small  ones.  So  intent  was  I  with  my  thoughts, 
that  I  did  not  see  a  boy  at  my  side,  until  he  said,  '  I  overheard 
the  talk  you  had  with  that  man ;  come  Avith  me  to  my  mother's, 
and  you  shall  have  as  much  as  you  want.'  Taking  me  by  the 
hand,  he  fairly  ran  with  me  along  the  road,  until  he  came  to  a 
small,  neat-looking  house,  with  a  yard  in  front,  filled  with  flow- 
ers. *  Here  is  where  my  mother  lives,'  he  said. 

'  Have  you  no  father  ? '  I  asked. 

'No,'  r.«  replied,  'my  father  has  been  dead  a  number  of  years. 
I  have  t.  sister  and  a  kind  mother. 

We  h-.»d  now  reached  the  house. 


62  THE  MOTHERLY  HEART. 

*  Mother,'  he  said,  running  up  to  her,  while  I  stood  by  the 
door, '  here  is  a  poor  boy  that  wants  something  to  eat.' 

'Well,  my  son,'  she  said,  'he  shall  have  something;'  and 
then  addressing  me,  said, '  Come  in  and  sit  up  to  the  table,  and 
I  will  give  you  something  to  eat.' 

I  sat  down  to  the  table,  and  eagerly  ate  what  she  sat  before 
me,  as  I  was  very  hungry.  I  answered  the  many  questions  she 
asked,  and  having  finished  my  meal,  thanked  her  for  her  kind- 
ness, and  went  on  my  way. 

It  was  but  a  short  distance  from  Bradford,  as  the  woman  had 
told  me ;  I  therefore  hurried  on  as  fast  as  I  could,  and  soon  ar- 
rived there.  I  felt  somewhat  afraid  to  go  to  my  old  employer, 
and  therefore  went  to  a  woman  that  I  knew,  who  kindly  gave 
me  something  to  eat,  and  I  stopped  there  that  night.  I  arose 
early,  and  went  to  another  mill  and  got  work.  I  had  worked 
here  but  a  short  time,  before  my  old  employer  came  for  me, 
and  I  went  to  work  with  him  again. 

A  short  time  after,  there  was  a  riot,  occasioned  by  reducing 
the  wages  of  the  help  employed  in  the  mills.  Some  of  the  men 
plugged  the  boilers,  letting  the  steam  off,  so  that  the  mills 
stopped.  A  great  crowd  collected  near  the  counting-house,  and 
began  to  throw  brickbats  through  the  windows.  A  company 
of  the  17th  Lancers  was  called  out,  and  a  man  standing  near 
me  threw  a  brickbat  which  struck  one  of  the  horse-soldiers, 
who  immediately  wheeled  his  horse,  and  dashed  out  of  the 
ranks,  and  chased  the  man  into  the  river,  over  which  he  swam, 
and  saved  his  life. 

The  riot  act  was  read,  and  they  were  then  commanded  to  dis- 
perse immediately ;  but  not  obeying,  the  Lancers  made  an  attack, 
riding  down  many ;  and  the  people,  finding  that  they  would  be 
killed,  unless  they  dispersed,  went  to  their  homes.  I  was  with 
one  William  Ackroid  at  that  time,  and  we  went  to  our  board- 
ing-house. He  worked  in  the  same  mill  that  I  did,  and  we 
were  in  the  habit  of  going  down  into  the  firing-room,  where  the 
boilers  were,  and  talking  with  the  men.  One  day  I  asked  Ack- 


EXPLOSION  AND  NARROW  ESCAPE.  flg 

roid  to  go  with  me  into  the  firing-room.  As  we  were  going 
into  the  firing-room,  the  fireman  spoke  to  some  men  that  were 
in  there,  and  said  that  he  was  afraid  that  the  boiler  would  burst, 
and  advised  them  to  come  out,  but  they  only  laughed  at  him. 
The  words  had  hardly  escaped  his  lips,  before  the  boiler  burst. 
Ackroid  and  myself,  upon  hearing  tne  ti reman,  stopped  outside 
the  firing-room.  There  were  in  the  room  three  men  and  a  boy, 
besides  two  masons  who  were  repairing  the  furnace.  One  of 
the  men  escaped  by  a  trap-door,  the  others,  inhaling  the  hot 
steam,  immediately  ran  into  the  street,  and  dropped  down,  and 
were  taken  by  some  men  and  carried  to  the  Infirmary.  The 
two  masons  that  were  repairing  the  furnace  had  to  walk  through 
water  boiling  hot,  that  was  a  foot  in  depth,  to  get  out  of  the 
room.  These  two  men  were  carried  also  to  the  Infirmary.  I 
had  gone  to  the  Infirmary,  and  was  in  the  room  when  they 
brought  them  in ;  it  was  a  sad  scene.  They  could  live  but  a  short 
time ;  two  of  them  were  young  men,  in  the  prime  of  life.  One 
was  about  to  be  married,  and  his  betrothed  fainted  when  she 
came  into  the  room.  The  friends  of  the  others  were  gathered 
around  them,  to  take  a  final  leave.  I  have  witnessed  many  sad 
and  solemn  scenes,  but  none  is  impressed  so  indelibly  upon  my 
mind  as  this  one.  How  merciful  was  God  to  me,  and  how  had 
he  spared  my  life,  while  others  perished  around  me !  Why  was 
1  spared  through  all  these  accidents  ? 


04  ENLISTING  AND  REJECTMENT. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

THK  next  morning  after  the  sad  accident,  by  which  five  lives 
were  lost,  I  said  to  Ackroid,  *  Let  us  go  and  enlist.'  He  said 
that  he  would,  and  we  decided  to  start  the  next,  morning ;  but 
he  was  afraid  that  I  would  tell  his  parents,  and  ran  away  before 
the  time,  and  enlisted  in  the  17th  company  of  Lancers.  He 
came  and  told  me  what  he  had  done,  and  I  started  for  the  ren- 
dezvous, and  enlisted  in  the  61st  Regiment.  The  next  morn- 
ing I  went  to  one  place,  while  he  went  to  another,  and  I  had 
enlisted  for  twenty-one  years.  I  had  to  go  to  Leeds  to  pass 
through  the  surgeon's  hands  for  examination .  I  passed,  but 
when  measured  I  fell  short  three-fourths  of  an  inch  of  the  re- 
quired height.  Thus  my  fond  hope  of  being  a  soldier  was  cut 
short. 

I  had  given  up  all  hopes  of  ever  seeing  Ackroid  agaiu,  and  felt 
extremely  sorry,  as  we  had  been  boon  companions  for  some 
time.  When  I  got  back  to  Bradford,  I  went  and  told  his 
mother  that  her  son  had  enlisted  in  the  army,  and  upon  hear- 
ing it,  she  fainted  away,  but  throwing  some  water  in  her  face, 
she  recovered. 

The  next  day,  while  walking  the  street,  I  saw  Ackroid  across 
the  way,  and  hastening  over,  shook  him  by  the  hand,  and  asked 
him  why  he  was  not  with  the  army.  He  replied  that  he  was 
rejected  by  the  surgeon.  I  felt  glad  that  he  was,  and  we  both 
went  to  work  in  the  mill  again,  weaving. 

One  evening,  there  was  a  celebration  of  some  kind,  and  fire- 
works on  the  common.  Besides  Ackroid  and  myself,  there  were 
two  more  young  men  with  us,  named  Charles  Green  and  Joseph 


FOUR  OF  US  RUNNING  OFF.  65 

Riggs,  and  we  all  agreed  that  night  that  we  would  run  away 
the  next  morning,  and  we  set  a  time  and  place  to  meet.  The 
next  morning  we  were  all  there,  faithful  to  our  promises,  and 
started  for  Liverpool,  about  seventy-two  miles  distant.  I  had 
some  clothes  at  my  uncle  William's,  whose  house  was  on  the 
road  that  we  were  to  travel,  and  when  we  arrived  there,  I  told 
my  companions  to  wait  for  me,  while  I  went  in  and  got  my 
clothes.  The  folks  were  all  gone  away,  excepting  one  of  my 
cousins,  and  I  told  her  that  I  wanted  to  get  my  clothes,  and 
went  up-stairs,  and  put  them  on  over  my  other  clothes,  and  then 
came  down.  My  cotrsin  asked  me,  as  I  came  down,  if  I  was  go- 
ing to  Halifax.  I  told  her  I  was  not,  but  was  going  another 
way,  and  perhaps  she  might  never  see  me  again.  Tears  filled 
her  eyes,  and  I  turned  and  hurried  from  the  house,  ashamed  to 
let  her  see  the  tears  that  were  trickling  down  my  face.  We 
then  continued  our  way  to  Liverpool.  We  had  gone  about 
eight  miles  from  Bradford,  when  we  began  to  feel  hungry,  and 
as  none  of  us  had  any  money,  I  pawned  a  cap  (as  I  had  two 
with  me)  for  half  a  crown,  and  with  this  money  I  bought  some 
bread  for  us  to  eat.  We  then  journeyed  until  night  when  we 
arrived  at  Rochester,  tired  and  foot  sore.  We  managed  to  get 
a  bed  which  we  all  four  had  to  occupy,  which  was  rather  snug 
quarters.  We  were  awakened  in  the  morning  by  hearing  the 
wooden  clogs,  worn  by  the  girls,  clattering  upon  the  sidewalk,  as 
they  went  into  the  mill.  We  arose,  and  went  down  stairs,  and 
having  paid  for  our  lodgings,  which  took  all  my  money,  we 
started  on  our  way  again.  We  traveled  five  or  six  miles,  when 
we  began  to  feel  hungry.  I  went  up  to  a  house,  and  asked  the 
woman  if  she  would  give  me  something  to  eat,  but  she  told  me 
to  go  home  and  get  something  to  eat,  if  I  wanted  anything.  I 
then  asked  her  for  a  di'ink  of  water,  which  she  gave  me,  and  we 
all  drank,  and  started  on  our  way,  and  soon  arrived  at  Man- 
chester. We  passed  through  a  few  streets  in  the  city,  when  we 
came  to  a  broker's  office ;  I  there  pawned  a  vest  and  handker- 
chief, and  with  the  money  we  satisfied  the  pangs  of  hunger, 
5 


66  ENLISTING   WHILE  DRUNK. 

which  had  troubled  us  exceedingly  the  last  four  miles.  The 
money  lasted  us  until  we  arrived  at  Liverpool,  when  we  went 
down  to  the  dock,  and  hired  out  on  board  a  man-of-war,  for 
seven  years.  We  then  started  up  town  to  see  the  city.  Pass- 
ing through  one  of  the  streets,  we  were  invited  into  a  recruit- 
ing rendezvous,  where  we  were  treated  by  the  sergeant  to  beer; 
he  then  measured  us  (as  he  said)  in  sport,  to  see  how  tall  we 
were ;  one  of  us,  he  said,  could'nt  get  into  the  army.  He  then 
gave  three  of  us  that  were  tall  enough,  beer  sufficient  to  get  us 
intoxicated,  and  then  conducted  us  to  a  bed  up-stairs.  The 
next  morning  we  were  somewhat  surprised  to  find  ourselves  in 
the  place  we  did.  We  arose  and  went  down  stairs,  and  met 
the  recruiting  sergeant,  who  told  us  that  we  had  enlisted  in  the 
army.  We  told  him  that  we  had  not.  He  then  spoke  to  the 
keeper  of  the  house,  and  asked  him  if  he  did  not  see  us  take 
the  enlistment  money.  (When  a  person  enlists,  he  is  paid  one 
shilling,  and  when  sworn  in  a  half  crown  more.) 

'  Yes,'  said  the  keeper, '  I  saw  them  take  the  money,  and  put 
it  in  their  pockets.  Come,  young  men,'  he  continued,  'just  feel 
in  your  pockets,  and  I  guess  that  you  all  can  produce  the  shil- 
ling.' 

Feeling  confident  that  the  money  was  not  in  our  pockets,  we 
each  one  unhesitatingly  put  our  hands  into  them,  and  as  a  mat- 
ter of  course,  produced  a  shilling  piece.  'There,'  said  the  ser- 
geant, 4  what's  the  use  of  trying  to  lie  out  of  it  ?  You  must  go 
with  me  to  the  magistrate  and  be  sworn.'  We  were  somewhat 
surprised  to  find  the  shilling  pieces  in  our  pockets,  but  I  came 
to  the  conclusion  that  they  were  put  there  while  we  were  in- 
toxicated. To  get  out  of  the  scrape  we  should  have  to  pay 
twenty-one  shillings,  which  is  called  'smart-money.'  We  were 
in  for  it  now,  and  as  I  thought  of  the  mean  tricks  that  were 
practiced,  of  which  this  played  upon  us  was  a  specimen,  to  get 
young  men  into  the  army,  my  opinion  of  it  diminished  exceed- 
ingly, but  not  so  much  as  it  has  since.  Near  ten  years  in  the 
English  army  were  long  enough  to  convince  me  that  the  offi- 


SWORN  IN.  67 

cers,  many  of  them,  were  never  soldiers  or  privates,  but  pur- 
chased their  commissions  by  paying  a  certain  sum  of  money, 
and  were  therefore  more  tyrannical,  and  their  discipline  and 
the  mean  living  that  the  young  recruits  had,  would  not  be  very 
strong  inducements  for  young  men  to  enlist. 

We  went  before  a  magistrate  and  were  sworn,  and  then  re- 
ceived half  a  crown  apiece.  We  were  now  fully  launched  out 
into  life,  and  thought  that  we  would  soon  be  on  our  way  to  the 
field  of  glory  and  fame,  to  reap  honor  and  win  laurels  that  none 
but  a  soldier  can  win.  So  we  thought  at  that  time,  but  we 
found  afterwards  that  winning  laurels  and  wearing  them  were 
two  different  things, — the  soldiers  win  laurels,  and  the  officers 
wear  them.  We  were  taken  from  Liverpool  to  London,  and 
were  then  billeted  out.  Ackroid  and  myself  were  sent  togeth- 
er about  two  miles  to  an  inn.  We  arrived  there,  but  the  keeper 
having  no  room  for  us,  gave  us  half  a  crown  to  pay  our  lodg- 
ings at  some  other  place.  Being  unacquainted  with  the  city, 
we  did  not  find  any  place,  and  we  therefore  started  for  the  re- 
cruiting sergeant's  quarters,  and  as  Ackroid  and  myself  could 
not  agree  as  to  which  street  to  take  to  cany  us  back,  he  took 
one  way,  and  I  another.  I  was  more  lucky  than  Ackroid,  and 
arrived  at  the  sergeant's  quarters,  and  stopped  that  night.  The 
next  morning  Ackroid  was  missing,  and  the  sergeant  directed 
the  police  to  look  him  up,  but  they  were  not  successful.  We 
were  detained  by  this  two  days.  The  second  day,  in  the  fore- 
noon, I  went  down  into  a  square  where  the  Queen's  Guards 
were  parading.  There  were  thousands  witnessing  the  scene, 
and  I  saw  Ackroid  in  the  distance.  I  knew  him  in  a  moment 
by  his  white  head,  and  made  my  way  through  the  crowd  where 
he  was.  He  was  glad  to  see  me;  the  old  difficulty  that  sepa- 
rated us  was  forgotten,  and  we  went  to  the  sergeant's  quarters. 
We  might  have  run  away  easily,  but  the  sergeant  had  told  us 
that  we  should  go  together,  and  praised  us  up  exceedingly,  by 
telling  us  we  were  cut  out  for  soldiers.  He  took  us  with  the 
other  recruits  aboard  the  cars,  and  went  to  Portsmouth.  Here 


68  GETTING  OUR  HEADS  SHAVED. 

we  stopped  one  night,  and  were  placed  in  the  guard-room,  and 
sentries  placed  over  us.  We  slept  on  nothing  but  boards  for  a 
bed.  The  next  morning  we  continued  our  journey,  and  took 
the  steamboat  for  the  Isle  of  Wight,  and  arriving  there,  we 
traveled  four  miles  to  our  barracks.  Here  we  thought  we  could 
take  our  ease  and  live  like  gentlemen,  but  how  soon  we  found 
our  mistake ;  instead  of  ease  and  comfort,  we  found  it  a  life  of 
bondage,  and  to  drown  our  sorrows,  we  had  recourse  to  the  ale- 
house. The  first  night  in  the  barracks  we  spent  in  the  'dry- 
room,'  where  they  put  prisoners.  Some  straw  was  put  upon  an 
iron  bedstead,  upon  which  I  slept.  I  well  remember  that  night, 
for  I  rolled  out  of  my  cot  (it  was  only  two  feet  wide)  upon  the 
floor,  which  made  the  rats,  which  infested  the  place,  scamper  to 
their  holes.  The  next  morning,  the  barber  came  and  shaved 
our  heads  closely.  I  told  him  that  the  recruiting  sergeant  said 
that  we  might  wear  our  hair  long,  but  the  barber  told  us  he  had 
his  duty  to  perform,  and  that  we  might  as  well  dry  up.  Aftei 
this  was  done,  we  were  passed  over  to  the  surgeon's  hands,  and 
then  we  went  back  to  our  barracks,  and  put  on  our  regimental 
clothes.  My  old  clothes  I  sold  for  two  quarts  of  beer,  and  my 
companion  did  the  same  with  his.  The  first  thing  we  had  to 
learn  was  our  drill.  Before  breakfast  we  had  to  drill  one  hour, 
then  again  from  eleven  to  twelve,  and  from  three  to  four  o'clock 
in  the  afternoon ;  making  three  hours  a  day,  and  the  remainder 
we  most  always  had  work  of  some  kind  to  do.  The  soldiers 
had  two  meals  a  day ;  the  first  at  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
and  the  other  at  one  p.  M.  Our  morning  rations  consisted  of 
one  pound  of  brown  bread  and  a  bowl  of  coffee  ;  this  brown 
bread  was  sometimes  so  soft,  that  when  thrown  against  the  wall, 
it  would  stick  there.  At  dinner,  we  had  a  pound  of  meat,  and 
two-and-half-pence  allowed  each  man,  to  buy  sugar,  tea,  etc. 
In  the  barracks  where  I  was  quartered,  there  were  in  each  room 
seventeen,  where  they  lived,  slept,  ate,  and  worked.  At  our 
meals,  two  officers  served  out  the  rations,  consisting  of  meat 
soup,  to  each  soldier.  I  could  not  say  they  showed  partiality, 


HOW  TO   DIVIDE  THE  SOUP.  (,t) 

but  it  looked  like  it.  They  would  proportionate  the  meat  soup 
out,  and  then  one  would  stand  witli  his  face  to  the  wall,  while 
the  other  officer  would  hold  up  a  plate,  and  ask,  'Who  is  this 
for?'  The  officer  whose  face  was  to«aiiis  the  wall,  would  say, 
for  B  and  so  on;  and  in  this  way,  they  would  pass  through  with 
the  whole.  I  was  the  youngest  in  the  room,  and  somehow  or 
other,  if  there  was  a  large  bone  without  much  meat  upon  it,  I 
was  sure  to  get  it.  I  stood  this  as  long  as  I  could,  and  at  last 
I  told  the  color  sergeant  how  I  fared,  and  he  changed  me  into 
another  room,  but  here  I  did  not  fare  much  better. 


70  FLOGGING  BY  THE  PULPIT. 


CHAPTER  X. 

ACKBOID  and  myself  used  to  drill  together,  and  often  talk  of 
home,  and  wish  we  were  out  of  the  service,  as  we  had  seen 
enough  of  it.  One  day  there  was  a  young  man  confined  for 
losing  some  of  his  clothes,  or  disposing  of  them.  This  man 
was  put  into  the  guard-room,  and  tried  by  a  regimental  court- 
martial,  and  sentenced  to  receive  one  hundred  and  fifty  lashes 
with  the  cat-o'-nine-tails,  a  whip  with  nine  lashes.  At  the  close 
of  the  court-martial,  the  bugler  sounded  for  orders.  The  orders 
that  day  were,  that  on  the  next  day  there  should  be  a  parade 
of  all  those  who  were  off  duty  and  out  of  hospital,  and  a  court- 
martial  read  on  parade.  The  next  day  at  ten  o'clock  the  bugle 
sounded  for  the  soldiers  to  dress ;  and  in  half  an  hour,  the  bu- 
gle sounded  for  them  to  fall  into  rank  and  file.  After  we  had 
formed  our  lines  for  marching,  the  word  was  given,  'Quick 
march.'  We  were  then  marched  into  the 'riding  school,' as 
they  call  it,  where  the  flogging  was  done.  Here  the  young  re- 
cruits were  marched  up  alongside  where  the  person  was  to  be 
flogged,  that  they  might  by  this  become  hardened,  and  kept  in 
fear.  I  remember  that  Ackroid  at  this  time  was  beside  me.  In 
this  riding  school,  where  they  did  the  flogging,  the  minister  held 
up  a  crucified  Saviour,  and  the  culprit  was  tied  to  the  pulpit  in 
which  he  stood.  Many  have  I  seen  sacrificed  upon  the  altar, 
but  it  was  not  acceptable  sacrifice.  The  buglers  of  each  com- 
pany, and  the  drum-major  of  the  depot  of  soldiers,  are  stationed 
beside  the  victim.  The  drummers  do  the  floarinnor;  a  number 

OO         O  * 

being  selected  out,  and  each  one  gives  twenty-five  lashes,  and 
if  there  are  not  drummers  enough  to  make  out  the  one  hundred 
and  fifty,  the  first  one  gives  twenty-five  more,  and  so  goes  round 
again,  until  the  full  complement  is  given.  The  drummer,  roll- 


WHIPPING  IS  DONE.  71 

ing  up  his  sleeve,  grasps  the  'cat'  firmly  in  his  hand,  and  raising 
it  slowly  over  his  head,  brings  it  down  with  his  whole  strength 
upon  the  bare  back  of  the  poor  victim,  making  the  blood  fly, 
and  counting  every  blow  given,  until  he  has  given  twenty-five, 
and  then  resigns  the  whip  to  his  successor.  Every  person  un- 
acquainted would  naturally  suppose,  that  when  a  person  is 
whipped,  and  the  one  who  inflicts  the  blows  has  no  enmity 
against  the  prisoner,  that  the  blows  would  be  light,  but  it  is  not 
so;  each  one  takes  pride  in  striking  a  heavy  blow,  and  the  one 
that  can  strike  the  hardest  is  considered  the  best  fellow.  Thus 
the  prisoner  always  gets  a  dreadful  whipping. 

When  the  prisoner  had  received  his  one  hundred  and  fifty 
lashes,  a  white  cloth,  saturated  with  salt  and  water,  was  then 
thrown  over  his  back,  and  thus  pickled,  he  was  sent  to  the  hos- 
pital, where  he  stayed  until  his  back  was  well.  Sometimes 
when  a  soldier  is  whipped,  he  has  a  lead  bullet  put  into  his 
mouth,  to  chew,  that  he  may  be  kept  from  biting  his  tongue, 
and  I  have  seen  it  taken  out  after  they  were  whipped,  ground 
in  pieces.  In  my  regiment,  there  was  a  full  corporal,  a  man  that 
was  despised  by  all  the  soldiers  th:vt  were  under  him.  He 
would  confine  the  soldiers  when  they  had  been  drinking,  and 
endeavor  to  get  them  court-martialed,  that  they  might  receive  a 
whipping.  The  soldiers  were  determined,  in  some  way  or  other, 
to  get  this  man  whipped. 

One  day  this  corporal,  with  some  soldiers,  went  to  Newport 
to  a  tavern,  when  the  soldiers  and  the  corporal  drank ;  the  cor- 
poral got  intoxicated,  and  the  soldiers  left  him  at  a  house  of  bad 
repute,  where  he  stopped  three  days.  The  officers,  supposing 
he  had  deserted,  sent  out  detachments  of  soldiers,  and  scoured 
the  country  around,  to  endeavor  to  find  him.  The  third  day  he 
was  found  at  the  house  referred  to,  and  some  of  his  clothing 
was  gone.  He  was  brought  before  a  garrison  court-martial,  and 
was  sentenced  to  receive  one  hundred  and  fifty  lashes.  This 
pleased  the  soldiers  exceedingly.  It  used  to  be  a  favorite  ex- 
pression with  him,  when  a  soldier  was  whipped,  and  he  cried 


72  HOW  TUE  CORPORAL   CAUGUT  IT. 

out,  or  even  groaned,  'That  he  was  a  coward, — a  baby.'  One 
of  the  drummers,  who  was  to  wield  the  *  cat,'  belonging  to  the 
regiment  of  which  the  prisoner  was  corporal,  was  six  feet  two 
inches  in  height,  a  very  robust  and  powerfully  built  man,  and 
said  in  tny  hearing,  the  morning  of  the  punishment, 'I  will 
make  him  cry  out,  or  my  arm  shall  come  off;'  and  as  he  said 
the  words,  he  stretched  forth  his  muscular  arm,  and  no  one 
doubted  but  what  he  would  be  as  good  as  his  word.  I  was  on 
sentry  at  the  time  of  the  flogging,  and  every  blow  struck, 
caused  the  flesh  and  blood  to  fly  about  me.  The  flesh  was 
whipped  off  from  one  of  his  shoulder  blades,  so  that  the  bone 
was  bare.  But  I  will  not  dwell  upon  this  disgraceful  scene, 
which  was  too  degrading  for  human  beings  to  be  engaged  in. 
Thank  God!  the  whipping  in  the  army  has  been  abolished! 
The  poor  victim  was  taken  to  the  hospital,  and  remained  about 
a  month  before  he  was  able  to  be  upon  duty  again ;  his  badges 
were  taken  off,  and  he  was  made  a  private.  This,  in  itself  is 
considered  a  great  disgrace  to  an  officer.  There  was  flogging 
about  once  in  three  weeks ;  sometimes  oftener.  I  came  near 
getting  one  hundred  and  fifty  lashes,  soon  after  I  came  into  the 
army.  One  night  I  was  upon  sentry,  box  number  six,  and  near 
by  was  an  apple  orchard,  the  trees  being  loaded  with  fruit.  I 
left  my  station,  and  went  to  the  orchard  and  filled  my  hat  with 
apples.  I  made  as  much  haste  as  possible,  that  I  might  get 
back  to  my  box  before  the  half-hour  call  came  round  again.  I 
was  returning  when  I  heard  the  cry  from  number  one,  '  All's 
well ! '  and  thus  it  continued  through  the  numbers,  until  it  came 
to  number  six,  my  station,  and  no  cry  was  heard.  I  had  not 
reached  it,  and  the  sentry  in  station  seven  cried  out,  *  All's  not 
well!'  And  thus  it  went  through  all  the  numbers.  Number 
one  cried  out, '  All's  not  well ! '  which  brought  out  the  sergeant 
with  a  file  of  soldiers,  and  they  immediately  went  to  number 
twelve.  The  sentry  there  said, '  All's  not  well ! '  number  eleven ; 
and  thus  it  was  followed  back,  until  they  came  to  number  seven, 
and  there  the  sentry  told  the  sergeant  that  no  cry  was  heard 


AN  AWFUL  DEATH.  73 

from  number  six.  In  the  meanwhile  I  had  got  back  to  my  box, 
leaving  my  apples  outside ;  and  the  sergeant  asked  me  why  I 
did  not  cry  out  *  All's  well ! '  I  knew  that  I  must  tell  the  best 
story  for  myself  that  I  could,  and  I  told  him  that  I  was  think- 
ing of  home,  and  forgot  to  give  the  signal.  The  sergeant  was 
friendly  to  me,  and  gave  me  some  advice  in  regard  to  the  mat- 
ter, and  told  me  that  if  some  other  sergeant  had  been  in  the 
guard-room  at  the  time,  I  should  not  have  escaped  a  flogging. 
He  then  left  me,  and  I  never  heard  of  the  matter  again,  but 
felt  under  great  obligations  to  him  for  pardoning  me  at  that 
time  for  such  neglect  of  duty. 

One  night  I  was  on  sentry  at  the  hospital,  when  a  man  named 
Stinson  was  carried  by  me,  on  a  table,  by  four  men,  to  the  hos- 
pital. He  was  a  man  of  fine  education  and  of  superior  abili- 
ties, and  had  left  his  regiment  in  the  East  Indies,  on  account  of 
his  health,  and  come  to  the  Isle  of  Wight.  He  was  a  great 
drunkard,  and  a  wicked  and  profane  man,  and  he  always  boast- 
ed, as  he  was  an  infidel,  that  when  he  died,  he  would  go  out  of 
the  world  like  a  roaring  bull.  When  he  was  carried  by  me,  he 
was  roaring  like  a  bull ;  he  was  in  a  state  of  delirium  tremens, 
for  three  days  and  nights,  and  made  this  noise  continually. 
The  fourth  night  after  he  was  carried  to  the  hospital,  between 
the  hours  of  eleven  and  twelve  o'clock,  he  was  carried  by  two 
men  to  the  dead-house,  on  a  sheet.  His  hair  was  torn  from 
his  head,  and  he  was  so  mangled  that  he  could  not  be  recog- 
nized. I  was  put  the  next  night  sentry  over  the  dead-house, 
and  my  orders  were  to  kick  on  the  door  of  the  dead-house 
every  ten  minutes,  to  keep  the  rats  away  from  the  dead  that 
were  in  there.  I  did  not  like  the  situation.  I  seemed  to  see 
Stinson  before  me  all  the  time,  and  made  an  exchange  with 
another  soldier,  and  took  his  place,  and  he  took  mine. 

I  remained  at  the  Isle  of  Wight  about  nine  months,  when  an 
order  was  received  from  the  Horse  Guards,  for  a  draft  of  the 
97th  Regiment  and  the  Rifle  Brigade,  to  fill  vacancies  at  Corfu, 
and  I  felt  joyful  to  leave  this  place.  Our  accoutrements  were 


74  THE  SAD  PARTING. 

examined,  and  we  were  given  firelocks  said  to  be  ours,  with 
locks  off,  and  many  of  them  witli  the  breech  broken,  and  we 
were  charged  so  much  for  repairs,  and  then  good  ones  were 
given  us,  and  the  old  ones  kept,  probably  to  pass  off  on  the 
next  draft  that  was  made.  In  a  few  days  we  were  in  readiness 
to  go  to  Corfu ;  the  bugle  sounded  for  us  to  fall  into  rank  and 
file.  There  were  one  hundred  in  the  whole,  and  we  were  or- 
dered to  march  forthwith  to  Bedford.  We  were  marched  down 
the  barracks,  while  the  band  played  '  The  girl  I  left  behind  me;' 
and  many  of  the  soldiers,  having  married  without  the  consent 
of  the  commanding  officer,  were  obliged  to  leave  their  wives 
and  children  behind  them.  All  around  me,  the  soldiers  were 
shaking  hands,  and  kissing  their  wives,  and  bidding  them  adieu, 
probably  for  the  last  time.  There  was  no  one  to  bid  me  fare- 
well, or  to  shake  the  friendly  hand ;  no  one  to  shed  a  parting 
tear  for  me ;  and,  as  I  looked  upon  the  scene,  I  thought,  oh ! 
that  I  had  a  friend  to  bid  farewell,  it  would  seem  to  relieve  me; 
for  my  heart  was  full,  as  I  saw  the  tears  trickle  down  the  sun- 
burnt cheeks  of  the  rough  soldiers,  and  the  mothers  holding  up 
their  young  babes  that  they  might  kiss  them  before  they  left. 

But  there  is  an  end  to  parting.  The  word  was  given, '  Quick 
march,'  and  we  hastened  on.  We  had  to  march  four  miles  to 
Cowes,  where  we  were  to  take  the  steamboat,  and  as  I  never 
marched  with  a  knapsack  on  before,  I  thought  that  I  should 
sink  beneath  my  heavy  bui-den.  We  took  the  steamboat  for 
Portsmouth,  and  then  the  cars  for  London.  From  London  we 
marched  to  Bedford,  and  there  we  were  billeted  out  for  the 
night.  Another  young  man  and  myselt  were  billeted  together. 
We  were  sent  by  twos  and  threes,  and  I  wished  to  be  sent  with 
Ackroid,  but  they  sent  us  as  was  most  convenient  to  them.  In 
the  morning,  we  had  to  meet  in  the  dock-yard;  the  bugler 
sounded  for  us  to  fall  in. 

We  went  aboard  the  ship,  and  went  below,  and  took  off  our 
knapsacks,  and  then  had  to  go  to  work  upon  deck.  We  were 
three  days  and  nights  going  down  the  channel,  and  the  third 


SAILING  FOR  THE  MEDITERRANEAN.  75 

day  we  arrived  at  Cove-of-Cork.  There  we  stopped  three  days, 
and  took  in  the  34th  Regiment,  and  then  sailed  for  the  Mediter- 
ranean. While  we  were  on  our  way,  a  young  soldier  picked  up 
a  'chin-strap'  (a  strap  that  goes  under  the  chin  to  keep  on  the 
military  cap).  This  young  man  inquired  for  the  owner,  but  not 
finding  him,  he  used  the  strap  for  himself.  The  owner  in  a 
short  time  noticed  it,  and  knowing  that  it  was  his,  made  a  com- 
plaint to  the  commanding  officer,  and  the  young  man  was  made 
a  prisoner,  tried  for  stealing  before  a  regimental  court-martial, 
was  found  guilty,  sentenced  to  be  tied  to  the  main-mast,  and 
receive  fifty  lashes.  This  young  soldier  slept  in  the  hammock 
beneath  me,  and  when  they  took  him  to  be  flogged,  he  plead  his 
innocence,  but  was  carried  upon  the  deck,  and  received  his  num- 
ber of  lashes.  He  received  a  severe  flogging;  the  flesh  was  left 
in  ridges,  and  the  blood  ran  down  upon  the  deck.  After  his 
flogging  he  was  covered  over  with  a  white  cloth,  soaked  in  salt 
and  water,  and  then  put  in  his  hammock.  He  was  said  to  have 
been  a  fine  young  man,  and  one  that  would  have  made  himself 
conspicuous,  but  the  whipping  crushed  his  spirits.  He  had  been 
full  of  life  and  activity,  but  from  that  time  he  was  sullen  and 
morose,  and  would  not  hold  conversation  with  any  one.  One 
day  we  were  sailing  along,  about  thirteen  knots  an  hour ;  the 
breeze  increasing,  the  studding-sail  tore  out  of  the  bolt-ropes, 
and  a  number  of  us  were  called  upon  deck,  and  told  to  go  aloft, 
and  assist  in  taking  in  sail ;  and  as  the  soldiers  were  inexperi- 
enced, one  of  our  number  fell  overboard,  and  was  lost.  The 
gale  increased,  and  at  night  it  was  my  watch  on  deck.  It  blew 
now  almost  a  hurricane,  all  sail  was  taken  in,  and  we  were  scud- 
ding along  under  bare  poles.  I  went  by  one  of  the  port-holes, 
and  laid  down,  and  while  there,  a  wave  dashed  over  the  side, 
unshipping  the  gun,  and  I  was  carried  along  by  the  wave,  but 
caught  the  halliards,  and  thus  saved  myself  from  being  swept 
over  the  ship's  side.  The  crew  were  called  up,  and  the  soldiers 
spiked  down  beneath  the  deck.  At  times,  the  waves  made  a 
complete  breach  over  her,  and  she  leaned  so  that  her  spars  at 


76          STEALING  FROM  THE  HOGS. 

times  touched  the  water.  At  the  dawn  of  day,  the  gale  abated 
somewhat,  and  we  found  that  a  number  had  been  washed  over- 
board. I  looked  around  for  Ackroid,  but  could  not  find  him 
above  or  below  deck,  and  thought  that  he  must  have  been 
washed  overboard.  As  he  had  been  very  sea-sick,  I  expected 
that  he  was  gone,  and  that  I  never  should  see  him  again. 
While  searching,  I  thought  of  a  place  under  the  long-boat, 
where  a  man  could  just  get  in,  and  going  there,  found  Ackroid. 
He  was  wet  through,  and  had  laid  his  head  down  upon  some 
tar,  which  held  him  fast.  Before  he  could  be  removed,  I  found  it 
necessary  to  get  a  knife,  and  cut  away  a  portion  of  his  hair;  and 
having  procured  some  water,  I  washed  him,  and  he  revived.  I 
then  went  up  where  the  hogs  were  kept,  and  stole  their  break- 
fast,— black  biscuit ;  and  I  believe  I  never  felt  so  cheap  as  I  did 
when  I  stole  the  bread  from  the  hogs;  but  I  felt  that  the  neces- 
sity of  the  case  demanded  it,  and  asserting  '  border  rights,'  I 
boldly  entered  the  pen  (the  very  last  place  where  I  should  have 
thought  of  picking  up  a  living),  and  by  dextrous  management, 
succeeded  in  obtaining  something  to  satisfy  the  cravings  of  my 
appetite.  Those  biscuits  tasted  quite  as  sweet  to  me  as  the 
nicest  bread  I  have  ever  eaten  since. 


GETTING  INTO  COEFU.  77 


CHAPTER    XI. 

WE  reached  Gibraltar,  and  there  we  took  in  some  water,  and 
continued  our  way  to  Corfu.  We  had  sailed  some  two  days, 
when  we  had  a  dead  calm  that  lasted  three  days.  We  forgot 
about  the  gale  we  had  experienced,  and  the  fiddle  and  the  flute 
sounded  merrily  upon  the  deck,  whilst  the  sailors  and  the  sol- 
diers danced  to  the  music;  and  for  three  days  nothing  but 
songs  and  merriment  were  heard.  The  soldiers  were  allowed 
a  glass  of  rum  a  day,  but  as  Ackroid  was  sick,  I  took  his  share, 
and  I  then  had  more  than  my  allowance  of  rum,  and  have  for 
many  years  since.  The  fourth  day,  a  fine  breeze  set  in,  which 
soon  carried  us  to  the  shores  of  Italy,  where  I  could  plainly  see 
the  burning  lava  upon  the  sides  of  Mt.  Vesuvius,  that  cast  a 
beautiful  mellow  light,  in  the  evening,  upon  the  hills  around. 
After  a  somewhat  long  voyage,  we  dropped  anchor  in  Corfu,  in 
Greece,  and  went  ashore.  This  place  seemed  cursed  with  the 
worst  kind  of  people.  The  grossest  corruption  pervaded  all 
classes;  justice  was  openly  bought  and  sold.  One  writer  says, 
'  When  they  were  placed  under  the  rule  of  England  they  were 
lazy,  ignorant,  cowardly,  superstitious,  and  blood-thirsty.'  San- 
dys, one  of  the  best  English  travelers  who  ever  visited  the 
Levant,  writes  thus  in  1610 :  '  They  will  threaten  to  kill  a  mer- 
chant that  will  not  buy  their  commodities,  and  make  more  con- 
science to  break  a  fast  than  commit  a  murder;  he  is  weary  of 
his  life  that  hath  a  difference  with  any  of  them,  and  will  walk 
abroad  after  daylight.  The  laborers  do  go  into  the  fields  with 
swords  and  partisans,  as  if  in  an  enemy's  country,  bringing 
home  their  oils  and  wines  in  hog-skins,  the  inside  turned  out.' 


78  CLIMATE  AND  SICKNESS. 

Dr.  Holland,  who  visited  this  place  in  1812,  says,  'that  the 
number  of  assassinations  in  Zante  has  been  more  than  one  for 
each  day  in  the  year,  though  the  population  was  only  40,000.' 
Corfu,  from  its  proximity  to  the  snowy  mountains  and  also  the 
black  mountains  of  the  interior,  is  subject  to  very  sudden 
changes  of  temperature,  and,  in  the  hot  seasons,  is  terribly  un- 
healthy, a  consequence  in  part  from  the  vapors  arising  from 
the  marshes  of  the  shallow  seas  to  the  north-east.  Booths  were 
built  for  the  guards  to  stand  under  in  the  hot  season,  and  I 
have  stood  under  my  shelter,  when  on  guard,  when  it  was  so 
hot  that  a  piece  of  beef  could  be  tossed  from  where  I  stood  on 
to  the  rocks,  and  be  tolerably  cooked  in  ten  minutes,  and  facing, 
at  the  same  time,  the  mountains  that  were  in  plain  sight,  whose 
summits  were  capped  with  snow.  It  was  no  wonder  so  many 
English  soldiers  died  here  like  rotten  sheep.  There  were  six 
hundred  men  that  came  from  the  Isle  of  Wight  to  Corfu,  many 
of  whom  died.  One  regiment,  by  a  fatal  malady,  lost  every 
man  but  one.  The  34th  Regiment  went  to  'Bell  Barracks,' 
and  those  of  us  that  belonged  to  the  Rifle  Brigade  and 
the  97th  Regiment  went  to  the  citadel  or  fortress.  Our  draft 
was  put  in  the  marine  guard-room,  and  then  the  soldiers 
hurried  down  to  see  us,  hoping  to  find  some  one  they  knew.  I 
saw  one  young  man  that  came  from  the  same  place  that  Ack- 
roid  and  I  did,  and  we  were  very  glad  to  meet  one  another  so 
many  miles  from  home.  This  young  man  went  immediately 
and  got  a  quart  of  wine  and  some  refreshments  to  treat  us  with, 
and  we  felt  so  happy  with  the  rest  of  the  soldiers,  and  made  so 
much  noise,  that  one  of  the  officers  told  the  captain,  and  he 
came  and  spoke  to  us,  and  said  these  word :  '  Young  men,  you 
have  got  into  a  place  where  there  are  no  back  doors,  through 
which  you  can  run  home  to  your  mothers.' 

The  next  day  we  were  ordered  to  wash  and  dress  ourselves, 
and  were  then  paraded  before  the  commanding  officer.  Our 
place  of  parade  was  on  the  esplanade,  and  when  we  arrived 
there,  the  officers  were  waiting  to  take  us  to  the  different  com- 


THE  DOCTORS  MURDER.  79 

pnnies,  there  being  sixteen  in  the  whole.  I  was  picked  out  for 
the  Light  Infantry,  and  Ackroid  was  chosen  for  the  second  com- 
pany, and  thus  we  were  about  to  be  separated.  The  thought 
of  tliis  began  to  make  me  feel  bad,  and  I  could  not  restrain  my- 
self, and  the  tears  began  to  flow  down  my  face.  One  of  the 
adjutants  seeing  that  I  was  crying,  said,  'What  are  you  weep- 
ing for?'  I  told  him  that  the  young  man  with  a  white  head 
had  always  been  with  me,  and  that  we  had  enlisted  together, 
and  that  as  we  were  about  to  be  separated,  it  made  me  sad. 
He  went  immediately  to  the  commanding  officer,  and  got  Ack- 
roid into  the  company  with  me.  We  had  then  our  arms  and 
accoutrements  served  out  to  us.  The  first  thing  we  now  had  to 
do,  was  to  learn  our  drill,  which  was  somewhat  different  from 
that  we  had  learned  at  the  Isle  of  Wight.  Some  of  the  soldiers 
were  sent  to  the  reserve  battalion,  in  West  Indies,  and  the 
others  were  in  the  first  battalion,  in  the  Ionian  Islands.  There 
was  a  poor  simple  fellow  that  came  with  us,  who  could  not  learn 
his  drill,  and  he  was  sent  to  Zante,  and  there  they  could  not 
make  anything  of  him.  The  doctor  said  that  he  was  making 
it,  and  that  he  could  bring  him  out,  so  he  was  sent  to  the  hos- 
pital. The  doctor  one  day  heated  an  iron  poker,  and  with  this 
he  burned  the  young  man  so  badly  that  he  died.  The  same 
doctor,  a  short  time  after,  died  a  very  sudden  death,  which 
pleased  all  the  soldiers,  and  he  was  brought  to  Corfu  to  be 
buried.  A  volley  was  fired  over  his  grave,  and  I  thought  at  the 
time  that  I  would  much  rather  have  fired  a  bullet  at  him,  than 
a  blank  cartridge  over  him.  We  soon  had  to  mount  guard,  and 
the  first  time  I  was  on,  the  heat  of  the  sun  so  overpowered  me, 
that  I  fell  down  senseless,  and  was  taken  up  and  carried  to  the 
hospital.  I  recovered  soon,  and  came  out  of  the  hospital,  al- 
though hardly  able  to  stand.  I  was  next  put  on  guard  upon 
Mt.  Tabor,  over  the  Greek  prisoners.  My  watch  was  two  hours, 
and  no  place  that  I  was  ever  on  sentry  was  so  desolate  and  sol- 
emn as  that.  I  could  hear  the  rattling  of  the  chains  of  the 
prisoners ;  also  the  wild  boars  on  the  sides  of  the  mountain. 


80  GIRLS  VISITING  THE  PRISON. 

During  the  night,  the  coi*poral  brought  a  pail  full  of  wine,  which 
was  drank  by  the  soldiers  on  duty.  I  was  sentry  over  the  old 
senate,  so  called,  and  there  was  one  prisoner  in  there  that  had 
been  confined  thirty  years  in  one  cell,  and  had  not  seen  the 
light,  only  through  the  gratings  of  the  window ;  he  seemed  to 
be  happy,  for  I  heard  him  singing  Greek  songs.  In  the  next 
cell  there  was  a  young  man,  and  when  I  was  on  sentry,  two 
young  Greek  girls  came  to  see  this  prisoner.  They  entreated 
me  to  let  them  carry  some  luxuries  to  him,  and  I  could  not 
withstand  their  earnest  pleading,  but  let  them  go  into  the  cell. 
If  I  had  been  caught  in  this  act,  I  should  have  been  confined, 
and  probably  got  severely  punished. 

The  sergeant,  one  evening,  went  out  of  town,  and  got  some 
wine,  and  while  he  was  away,  some  of  the  other  officers  brought 
wine  to  the  soldiers,  and  before  he  returned  the  guard  were  in- 
toxicated, and  the  next  day  when  we  were  relieved,  one  of  the 
guardsmen  was  confined  for  getting  drunk,  and  the  following 
day  received  one  hundred  and  fifty  lashes.  There  were  sixteen 
flogged  that  day  for  getting  drunk,  when  upon  garrison  duty. 
When  I  saw  these  poor  fellows  flogged,  I  thought  to  myself, 
that  I  never  would  get  drunk  when  on  duty.  In  a  few  days 
after,  I  was  warned  for  garrison  picket,  and  a  corporal  asked  me 
to  go  out  of  town  with  him.  We  went  to  a  wine  shop,  and 
there  drank  some  two  quarts  of  wine,  and  became  partially  in- 
toxicated, and  when  I  arrived  at  the  barracks,  was  confined  for 
getting  drunk.  I  had  been  in  the  guard-room  a  short  time, 
when  one  of  the  men  said  that  I  should  get  a  flogging,  and  this 

O  OO         O7 

sobered  me  in  a  minute,  and  I  spoke  to  the  sergeant  of  the  guard, 
and  told  him  I  was  not  drunk.  '  But,'  said  he,  '  you  are  con- 
fined for  getting  drunk.'  All  the  soldiers  said  I  was  not  drunk. 
That  night  I  did  not  sleep  much,  expecting  that  the  next  day 
I  should  be  more  intimately  acquainted  with  the  cat-o-nine-tails, 
with  whose  satanic  majesty  I  desired  no  intimacy.  The  follow- 
ing day  I  was  carried  before  the  commander,  and  he  told  me 
that  I  was  reported  as  having  been  drunk  when  on  duty.  I 


BOBBING  THE  OLD  JEW.  81 

told  the  sergeant  that  I  was  not  drunk,  and  that  I  could  prove 
it  by  the  soldiers.  'But,'  said  he,  'the  sergeant  said  that  you 
was  drunk.  Young  man,'  he  continued, '  you  are  commencing 
too  soon  to  lead  a  bad  life,  but  I  think  we  will  punish  you.'  I 
begged  that  he  would  not,  as  I  had  always  tried  to  obey  the 
discipline.  The  commander  said,  'As  you  are  a  youngster,  I 
will  forgive  you  this  time,  but  never  be  brought  before  me  again; 
if  you  do,  you  will  have  to  suffer  the  penalty  for  transgressing 
the  rules.'  I  escaped  the  'cat'  again,  and  I  made  up  my  mind 
that  I  never  would  run  the  risk  of  a  whipping,  by  getting  in- 
toxicated when  upon  duty. 

There  was  a  rich  Jew  that  kept  a  shop  in  the  fortress,  where 
he  sold  wines  and  other  things  to  the  soldiers.  He  was  as  snug 
and  exacting  a  person  as  could  be  met  with.  He  used  to  sell 
what  they  called  '  black  puddings,'  to  the  soldiers,  who  said  that 
they  were  made  out  of  rats  ;  but  the  soldiers,  when  they  went 
in  there,  would  get  liquor  to  drink,  and  then  they  would  eat 
anything.  The  soldiers  used  to  say,  that  if  a  person  would  rob 
him,  it  would  be  a  good  deed.  One  night,  as  I  was  on  sentry, 
I  thought  to  myself,  I  will  rob  that  Jew,  and  as  he  has  stolen 
money  away  from  the  soldiers,  when  they  were  drunk,  it  will  be 
no  worse  for  me  to  steal  from  him ;  and  with  this  thought,  I  put 
my  gun  doAvn,  and  went  to  his  door,  and  tried  to  open  it,  but  it 
was  fast.  I  then  put  my  shoulder  against  it,  and  pushed  it  open, 
and  went  in,  and  opened  the  money  drawer.  I  put  my  hand  in, 
and  found  some  farthings ;  and  in  another  drawer,  I  found  a 
sovereign  piece,  and  some  small  silver  pieces,  but  I  left  the  small 
pieces,  as  the  sovereign  was  enough  for  me,  and  went  out  and 
shut  the  door.  I  went  away  a  short  distance,  and  buried  the 
sovereign  piece  in  the  ground.  I  then  went  back  to  my  post, 
and  had  just  arrived  there,  when  a  sentry  came  to  relieve  me. 
When  I  arrived  at  the  guard-room,  I  laid  down  upon  the  bed, 
but  felt  somewhat  uneasy  about  the  deed,  as  I  remembered  what 
the  orders  were ;  and  if  a  soldier  when  on  duty  left  liis  post,  to 
go  away  for  plunder,  that  the  penalty  was  a  severe  one.  The 
6 


82  HIDING   THE  MONEY. 

next  day,  when  the  Jew  came  to  his  shop,  he  found  it  had  been 
broken  open  and  robbed,  and  he  went  and  told  the  sergeant. 
The  sergeant  said  that  he  could  not  believe  it;  but  the  Jew 
took  him  along  with  him  to  his  shop,  and  showed  that  it  had 
been  broken  open.  The  sergeant  went  to  the  soldiers  that  had 
been  on  sentry  near  there  that  night,  and  questioned  them  in 
regard  to  the  affair.  We  all  said  we  knew  nothing  about  it. 
That  night,  I  went,  after  I  was  off  duty,  down  to  the  place 
where  I  buried  my  sovereign,  and  taking  it  to  the  money 
changers,  got  it  changed  into  shilling  pieces.  I  then  went  and 
found  Ackroid,  and  we  went  out  to  the  shops,  and  spent  half  a 
crown  for  wine  and  eatables.  I  left  Ackroid,  and  went  down 
to  where  the  old  batteries  were,  a  short  distance,  and  hid  my 
money  in  an  old  rotten  timber  there,  and  then  went  back  to  bar- 
racks. The  next  day,  I  went  to  the  old  battery  to  get  some 
money,  but  was  somewhat  surprised  to  find  that  it  was  all  gone. 
Where  it  had  gone  was  more  than  I  could  imagine,  and  I  was 
pretty  confident  that  no  one  followed  me  to  the  place ;  but  one 
thing  was  certain,  my  money  was  gone,  and  I  felt  then  that  the 
proverb,  that  'riches  certainly  make  themselves  wings,'  was  a 
pretty  true  one.  I  came  to  the  conclusion,  as  I  went  back  to 
the  barracks,  never  again  to  take  anything  that  did  not  belong 
to  me.  They  never  knew,  I  believe,  who  committed  the  rob 
bery,  and  they  did  not  exert  themselves  much  to  find  out. 
The  soldiers  were  glad  of  it,  and  the  officers  were  not  sorry. 
Perhaps  one  reason  why  the  officers  did  not  endeavor  to  find 
out  who  committed  the  deed  was,  that  they  did  not  believe  the 
old  Jew's  story.  They  thought  he  had  made  it  up  to  excite 
sympathy;  and  then  again,  the  officers  said  it  was  not  likely  that 
a  soldier  would  have  broken  into  the  store,  and  then  left  silver 
scattered  around  ;  and,  upon  the  whole,  they  neither  knew,  nor 
cared  much  about  it,  and  it  therefore  dropped. 

A  few  days  after  this,  a  barrack  was  to  be  built  within  the 
fortress,  and  I  was  chosen,  with  some  other  soldiers,  to  work 
on  this  one  month.  Our  task  was  to  wheel  one  thousand  bricks 


IRISH  CORPORAL.  83 

a  day,  some  four  hundred  yards  from  the  sea-shore,  up  to  the 
barracks,  which  was  a  very  hard  job,  as  part  of  the  distance 
was  very  steep,  and  I  have  sometimes  slipped,  and  my  bricks 
would  come  down  on  ine,  and  my  barrow  would  roll  down  over 
the  hill.  We  had  a  corporal  for  a  task-master  over  us.  He 
sported  white  kid  gloves  and  a  cane,  and  was  quite  a  gentle- 
man. In  Ireland,  where  he  came  from,  he  was  a  turf-digger,  and 
worked  in  the  mud.  I  worked  on  the  barracks  about  a  month, 
and  saw  many  flogged  for  diinking  while  at  work  there,  and 
the  task-master  would  swear  that  they  were  drunk,  if  they  had 
taken  any  at  all. 


Fi  BURYING  A  MAN  ALIVE. 


CHAPTER    XII. 


THB  batteries  were  situated  upon  a  bluff,  some  two  hundred 
uud  fifty  feet  high,  near  the  sea.  It  was  a  level  plot,  upon 
which  some  two  thousand  could  be  accommodated.  Above 
the  batteries,  on  the  top  of  this  bluff,  was  the  hospital  and 
dead-house.  A  short  time  after  I  came  here,  there  was  one 
man  in  the  hospital  that  was  pronounced  dead,  or  so  near  it, 
that  it  would  be  safe  enough,  as  they  thought,  to  put  him  in 
the  dead-house,  and  he  was  therefore  carried  and  put  in  there, 
and  while  there,  the  rats  began  to  lay  claim  to  him,  which  was 
the  means  of  arousing  him,  and  he  got  up  and  crept  around  as 
best  he  could.  The  sentry,  hearing  a  noise  in  the  dead-house, 
called  the  sergeant,  and  the  soldiers  turned  out  of  the  guard- 
room, but  not  one  of  them  had  courage  enough  to  enter.  At 
last  they  got  a  lantern,  and,  opening  the  door,  they  called  out, 
'Who's  there?'  They  received  no  answer,  but  heard  a  noise, 
as  if  some  person  had  fallen  down.  After  some  time  they 
went  in,  and  found  the  poor  fellow,  who  was  now  dead.  He 
was  actually  frightened  to  death. 

An  incident  happened  when  I  was  in  Corfu,  although  not 
connected  with  me,  which  I  cannot  refrain  from  stating.  A 
man  named  Rogers,  that  belonged  to  the  Rifle  Brigade,  and  had 
been  a  school-mate  of  the  sergeant  of  the  same  company,  got 
angry  with  him,  as  the  sergeant,  from  some  cause  or  other,  took 
every  opportunity  that  he  could  to  confine  him,  and  determined 
to  have  his  life.  One  night,  Rogers  took  another  man's  fire- 
lock, and  went  to  the  sergeant's  bed,  and  putting  the  muzzle  of 
his  gun  to  the  sergeant's  head,  fired.  The  ball  passed  through 


THE  MURDERER  CAUGHT.  85 

his  head,  killing  him,  and  down  into  another  room,  into  one  of 
the  soldier's  cots.  The  alarm  was  given,  and  the  firelocks  ex- 
amined, to  see  which  one  had  been  loaded  recently,  and  the 
owner  of  the  gim  was  arrested ;  but  while  being  carried  oif, 
Rogers  sprang  from  his  cot,  and  said  that  he  was  the  man  that 
did  the  deed.  The  other  soldier  was  released,  and  Rogers  was 
taken  arid  put  into  the  dead -cell,  and  there  confined  to  await 
his  trial.  He  was  tried  by  a  general  conrt-martial,  and  was 
sentenced  to  be  hung.  On  the  morning  of  the  execution,  the 
prisoner  appeared  as  lively  as  ever.  At  ten  o'clock,  the  bugle 
sounded  for  the  soldiers  to  dress,  and  in  half  an  hour,  for  them 
to  fall  in.  All  were  marched  up  to  witness  the  execution ;  and 
when  upon  the  scaffold,  the  prisoner  made  one  of  the  most  af- 
fecting speeches  that  had  been  heard  for  many  a  day.  He 
exposed  the  petty  officers,  how  they  tyrannized  over  the  sol- 
diers, and  concluded  his  remarks  with  such  feeling,  that  the 
tears  ran  down  the  faces  of  the  rough  soldiers,  and  some  of 
them,  it  was  said,  even  fell  in  the  ranks.  At  that  time,  his 
speech  was  heralded  throughout  the  land  as  a  remarkable  one. 
Thus  perished  a  scholar  and  a  soldier;  one  that  had  every 
requisite  qualification  to  make  a  man  respected  and  honored  by 
his  countrymen. 

A  short  time  after  the  execution,  a  soldier,  belonging  to  the 
same  regiment  with  myself,  wanted  to  go  into  town,  and  as 
sentries  were  stationed  all  around,  he  dressed  himself  as  Rog- 
ers was  dressed  when  carried  to  the  place  of  execution.  As  he 
approached  the  sentries,  they  fled  before  him,  as  they  thought 
he  was  Rogers' ghost ;  and  he  succeeded  in  getting  to  town 
and  back  safe.  Having  made  such  a  successful  trip,  he  thought 
that  he  could  go  the  next  night,  but  an  old  soldier  was  on  sen- 
try, an  Irishman,  called  Tim.  He  was  as  bold  as  a  lion,  and 
nothing  could  frighten  him ;  and  as  Galgree  (the  name  of  the 
, soldier)  was  passing  him,  he  cried  out, '  Who  comes  there  ? ' 
No  answer  came,  and  he  cried  again,  '  Who  comes  there  ? ' 
But  he  received  no  answer,  and  again  cried  out, 


86  BOW  TIM  CAUGHT  A  GHOST. 

'  The  divil  take  ye,  by  St.  Pathrick,  av  ye  doant  be  after 
givin  the  signal,  its  meself  that  will  make  daylight  shine 
through  ye.  Who  comes  there?' 

No  answer  came,  and  Tim  snapped,  but  his  firelock  flashed 
in  the  pan,  or  poor  Galgree  would  have  made  his  last  night's 
excursion.  Tim  now  charged  bayonet,  and  Galgree  took  to  his 
heels,  with  Tim  after  him.  He  soon  brought  him  to  a  stand 
between  two  high  bluffs,  when  Galgree  said,  '  Tim,  don't  you 
know  me  ? ' 

*  By  me  soul,  its  meself  that's  not  ackuanted  with  the  likes  av 
ye,'  said  Tim. 

'But  don't  you  know  Galgree?' 

'  Well,  Galgree  or  no  Galgree,  av  ye  doant  be  after  marching 
to  the  guard-room,  I'll  jist  tickle  ye  with  the  pint  of  my  bayo- 
net ;  and  faith  an  ye'll  find  that's  meself  that's  too  ould  a  sol- 
dier to  be  scared  by  the  ghosteses.' 

Galgree  marched  toward  the  guard-room,  with  Tim  following 
close  at  his  heels,  with  the  bayonet  at  his  back,  and,  arriving  at 
another  sentry-box,  the  sentry,  seeing  the  ghost  of  Rogers,  as 
he  supposed,  with  a  screech,  took  to  his  heels.  Tim  still  kept 
marching  him  along  until  he  came  to  the  guard-room,  and  then 
ordered  Galgree  to  open  the  door.  The  sergeant  was  making 
out  his  guard  report  when  the  door  opened,  and  the  ghost  of 
Rogers  stared  him  in  the  face.  He  was  so  frightened  that  he 
overturned  the  table,  and  the  noise  awakened  the  soldiers  who 
were  in  the  room ;  and  seeing  Rogers'  ghost  in  the  door,  some 
cursed  and  swore,  while  others  shrunk  into  the  back  part  of  the 
room.  Tim  now  began  to  get  mad  at  the  cowardice  of  the  sol- 
diers, and  bellowed  out, '  The  divil  and  sure  Rogers  has  come 
back,  and  what  a  boald  lot  av  soldiers  ye  are ;  its  meself  that 
would  not  be  afeerd  to  face  a  r.egemint  like  ye,  an  is  it  the  likes 
av  ye  that  are  put  on  guard,  thats  afeerd  of  a  shader  ?  this  is 
nothing  more  than  Galgree  who  is  playing  the  ghosteses  on  us.' 

The  words  of  Tim  restored  the  soldiers  to  order  again,  and 
they  began  to  come  out  and  show  themselves.  Poor  Galgree 


SICK  COMRADE.  87 

was  taken  up  into  a  chamber  and  fastened  in,  and  the  next  day 
he  was  brought  before  the  commanding  officer,  who,  when  he 
was  brought  in,  imitated  the  rest  of  the  soldiers,  and  holding 
up  his  hands  and  starting  back,  to  make  fun  of  the  frightened 
officers,  he  said,  '  I  thought  we  hung  you  the  other  day,  but  we 
will  see  if  we  can  give  you  some  more  punishment ; '  and  he 
gave  orders  for  him  to  be  tried  by  a  court-martial,  and  he  was 
sentenced  to  break  stones  fifty  days  where  Rogers  was  hung. 

My  companion  Ackroid  about  this  time  was  taken  sick,  and 
was  carried  to  the  hospital.  What  little  money  I  obtained,  I 
would  spend  in  buying  him  luxuries.  I  was  not  allowed  to 
carry  wine  to  him,  but  sometimes  smuggled  it  in  a  small  flask, 
concealed  in  my  stockings.  I  went  to  see  him  one  day,  and 
whilst  there  the  drum-major  came  in  with  a  letter  sealed  with 
black ;  it  was  written  by  his  sister,  and  contained  the  unwel- 
come news  of  the  death  of  his  mother.  She  had  written  to 
him  many  times,  urging  him  to  get  his  discharge  from  the  army, 
which  he  could  have  done  by  paying  twenty-one  pounds,  and 
she  offered  him  the  money  to  pay  it ;  but  I  would  talk  him  out 
of  the  notion,  and  tell  him  that  we  should  soon  go  to  a  station 
nearer  home.  But  the  most  prevailing  argument  I  had,  was 
that  we  had  been  companions  so  long  that  I  could  not  get 
along  without  him,  as  they  were  all  strangers  to  me  here,  and 
by  this  I  persuaded  him  to  remain.  Ackroid  read  the  letter 
and  passed  it  to  me,  but  I  could  not  read,  but  knew  that  some 
thing  was  written  there  that  caused  my  companion  to  weep, 
and  he  told  me  that  his  mother  was  dead.  While  the  tears 
coursed  down  his  cheeks,  he  said  these  words  to  me :  '  Isaac, 
there  is  something  in  sickness  that  breaks  down  the  pride  of 
manhood,  and  softens  the  heart,  and  brings  it  back  to  its  infan- 
cy ! '  Who  that  has  languished  upon  a  sick-bed,  in  neglect  and 
loneliness  in  a  foreign  land,  that  has  not  thought  of  the  mother 
who  in  his  childhood  smoothed  his  pillow,  and  administered  to 
his  helplessness?  There  is  something  in  a  mother's  love  for  a 
son,  which  transcends  all  other  affections  of  the  heart.  It  is- 


88  FROM  CORFU  TO  MALTA. 

neither  to  be  stifled  by  ingratitude,  nor  daunted  in  danger;  for 
she  will  surrender  everything  for  his  enjoyment,  and  sacrifice 
everything  for  his  pleasure.  If  prosperity  should  overtake  him, 
she  will  exult  in  his  success;  and  if  adversity,  she  will  lament 
over  his  misfortune, — though  all  the  world  cast  him  off,  she  will 
be  all  the  world  to  him  !  I  never  expected  Ackroid  to  get  out 
again,  but  he  soon  after  began  to  mend,  and  left  the  hospital. 

I  remained  in  Corfu  some  three  years,  and  then  an  order 
came  from  the  Horse  Guards,  for  the  97th  Regiment  to  go  to 
Malta.  We  sailed  in  the  man-of-war  Vengeance,  and  every 
heart  was  glad  to  leave,  expecting  to  go  to  a  better  place,  but 
we  were  taken  to  a  worse  one.  While  we  were  sailing  up  to 
Malta,  they  practiced  shooting  with  a  seventy-four  gun.  The 
first  lieutenant  had  one  eye,  and  if  there  was  a  tyrant  in  the 
British  service,  it  was  that  man.  I  have  seen  him,  when  the 
gunner  was  elevating  his  piece,  strike  him  with  a  rope's  end,  if 
the  position  of  the  gun  did  not  suit  him,  and  lay  him  prostrate 
on  the  deck. 

We  landed  at  Malta,  and  were  marched  to  our  barracks. 
The  regimental  guard  was  the  first  place  where  I  was  upon 
duty.  The  Maltese  gave  the  soldiers  wine,  and  got  them  intox- 
icated, and  there  were  so  many  of  them  confined  for  drunken- 
ness, that  the  guard-room  was  nearly  full.  When  we  went  into 
the  streets  we  were  often  attacked,  and  many  were  the  escapes 
we  made  from  the  Maltese  while  we  stopped  in  that  place.  One 
evening,  one  of  my  companions,  a  drinking  fellow,  went  out 
upon  the  street,  and  got  into  a  fight;  several  Maltese  were 
against  him,  but  he  fought  his  way  through,  and  arrived  at  the 
barracks,  covered  with  blood,  and  wounded  badly.  The  mos- 
quitoes and  sand-flies  troubled  us  exceedingly,  so  that  it  was 
difficult  for  us  to  sleep  in  the  guard-room,  and  we  used  to  tie 
our  pants  around  the  bottom,  to  keep  them  from  biting  our 
legs ;  and  although  we  used  every  means  to  keep  them  off,  we 
could  not  get  rid  of  them.  By  these  troubles,  we  could  not 
sleep  much  in  the  guard-room,  and  when  we  went  upon  sentry 


POWS   WITH  THE  MALTESE.  89 

wo  were  very  sleepy,  and  at  one  time,  I  remember  it  distinctly, 
I  sat  down  when  upon  my  post,  and  fell  asleep.  The  sergeant, 
making  his  regular  visit  to  the  sentries,  and  finding  me  asleep, 
seized  my  firelock  to  take  it  from  me,  but  I  was  awake  in  a  mo- 
ment, and  my  bayonet  at  his  breast.  He  told  me  that  I  should 
have  to  be  confined ;  but  I  informed  him  that  the  mosquitoes 
and  sand-flies  troubled  us  so  in  the  gnard-room  that  we  could 
not  sleep,  and  that  I  fell  asleep  at  my  post  before  I  was  aware 
of  it.  This  sergeant  had  always  been  friendly  to  me,  and  he 
did  not  report  me  to  the  commanding  officer,  or  I  should  have 
stood  a  chance  of  getting  fifty  lashes. 

The  soldiers  having  had  a  falling  out  with  the  Maltese,  could 
not  go  into  the  streets  without  running  the  risk  of  their  lives. 
Our  regiment,  about  the  time  of  this  trouble,  had  to  furnish  the 
main  guard;  there  were  twenty-seven  others  besides  myself 
upon  that  guard.  One  evening,  the  band  was  playing  in  front 
of  the  guard-room,  in  a  large  public  square  (the  band  was 
formed  in  a  circle),  and  there  were  three  soldiers  and  a  corporal 
that  walked  around  the  circle,  to  keep  the  crowd  back ;  but  one 
man  that  had  been  drinking,  broke  in,  and  the  corporal  arrested 
and  carried  him  to  the  guard-room,  and  confined  him.  As  soon 
as  the  man  was  arrested,  the  crowd  rushed  toward  the  band, 
breaking  their  circle,  and  overturning  some  of  them  by  the 
rapidity  of  their  movements.  The  guard  was  called  out  under 
arms,  and  I  was  standing  beside  a  soldier  named  Vass,  when  a 
large  rock  was  thrown,  grazing  his  face.  This  and  similar  dem- 
onstrations aroused  the  soldiers,  and  in  the  confusion  the  pris- 
oner escaped  from  the  guard-room,  and  ran  down  the  street, 
with  the  corporal  after  him.  We  presented  bayonets,  and  kept 
the  crowd  back.  My  bayonet  was  at  the  breast  of  a  priest,  and 
the  Maltese  men  looked  exceedingly  fierce  at  me,  while  the 
priest  was  continually  crossing  himself.  The  corporal  caught 
up  with  the  prisoner,  and  seized  him  by  the  collar,  but  quite  a 
number  of  the  Maltese  gathered  around  to  rescue  him,  when 
the  corporal  saw  Tim  (the  Irishman  before  referred  to),  walking 


90  YOU  ARE  A  DEAD  MAN. 

along  near  by ;  he  cried  out  for  him  to  assist,  and  Tim,  seizing 
u  large  cane  from  a  bystander,  came  to  the  corporal,  and  as  the 
crowd  were  just  endeavoring  to  rescue  the  prisoner,  he  laid  a 
number  of  them  prostrate,  and  took  the  prisoner,  and  marched 
him  to  the  guard-room.  The  Maltese,  seeing  a  number  of  their 
men  struck  down  by  Tim,  would  not  be  satisfied  or  suspend 
hostilities,  until  he  was  arrested  and  confined,  which  was  ac- 
cordingly done.  He  was  kept  in  prison  forty  days,  and  was 
then  honorably  acquitted ;  and  when  he  walked  the  streets  of 
Malta,  the  citizens  treated  him  with  more  respect  than  any 
other  soldier,  on  account  of  his  bravery. 


BICK  AT  MALTA.  <\\ 


CHAPTER    XIII. 


I  WAS  ou  -fte  new  Senate  Guard  while  in  Malta,  and  there 
were  many  1  urks  there,  and  I  was  attracted  every  morning  by 
seeing  them  bow  down  and  worship  the  sun.  "While  upon  this 
guard  I  was  taken  sick,  but  I  thought  I  would  much  rather  die 
in  the  barracks  than  in  the  hospital.  But  growing  weaker 
every  day,  at  last  I  could  just  get  around ;  and  as  the  corporal 
came  around  to  the  barracks  and  inquired  if  any  were  sick,  I 
gave  in  my  name,  and  was  carried  to  the  hospital.  The  doctor 
came  to  see  me,  and  asked,  'How  long  have  you  been  sick?'  I 
told  him  that  it  had  been  nearly  a  week. 

'  You  are  a  dead  man,  then.  Why  did  you  not  report  your- 
self  before  ? '  he  said,  with  an  oath. 

One  day  the  general  doctor  came  to  visit  me ;  I  had  been 
then  three  months  in  the  hospital,  and  was  almost  a  skeleton, 
and  he  said  that  I  could  live  but  a  short  time.  I  felt  frightened 
by  his  words,  knowing  that  I  was  not  prepared  to  die,  and  I 
pledged  myself,  that  if  God  would  raise  me  up,  that  I  would 
serve  him  the  remainder  of  my  days.  That  night  my  feet  grew 
cold,  and  I  was  told  my  time  had  come.  These  words  nearly 
frightened  me  to  death ;  when  one  of  the  soldiers  that  was  in- 
toxicated, seized  a  pan,  and  filling  it  full  of  hot  water,  put  my 
feet  into  it,  scalding  me  severely.  I  closed  my  eyes  in  death, 
as  I  thought  then,  and  lay  speechless,  when  the  person  who  had 
charge  of  me  took  from  my  pocket  a  Spanish  dollar,  and  ex- 
changed his  old  boots  for  a  pair  of  new  ones  that  I  had.  I 
opened  my  eyes,  and  the  man  finding  I  was  not  dead  yet,  re- 
turned the  dollar  and  replaced  the  boots.  That  night  I  was 


i>2  ATTEMPTED  SUICIDE. 

able  to  speak,  and  continued  to  recover  slowly.  I  was  soon 
enabled  to  walk,  and  obtained  liberty  to  go  out  of  hospital, 
down  upon  the  sea-shore,  and  at  first,  I  had  the  Maltese  assist 
me  back  to  the  hospital  a  number  of  times,  being  too  weak  to 
return.  After  I  had  recovered  so  as  to  go  upon  duty  again,  the 
Light  Infantry  received  orders  to  go  upon  the  opposite  side  of 
Malta,  to  take  charge  of  a  fort.  While  at  the  fort,  a  soldier 
belonging  to  Number  Two  Company  had  been  drinking  hard, 
and  he  took  his  firelock  and  loaded  it,  and  going  into  a  bowling 
alley  that  was  near,  tied  a  string  to  the  trigger  of  the  gun,  and, 
placing  the  muzzle  under  his  chin,  was  about  to  pull  the  string, 
when  the  sergeant  went  in,  and  knocking  the  man  down,  caught 
the  gun  as  it  dropped ;  it  went  off  and  drove  the  ball  into  the 
ceiling.  The  soldier  was  taken  up  and  carried  to  the  hospital. 

We  stopped  in  Malta  about  sixteen  months,  when  an  order 
was  received  for  the  97th  Regiment  to  go  forthwith  to  Halifax, 
in  the  ship  Java.  We  left  in  the  fall  of  eighteen  hundred  and 
forty-eight,  and  arrived  at  Halifax  in  some  fifty  days ;  and  as 
we  had  thin  clothing  on,  we  suffered  extremely  from  the  cold. 
We  went  ashore  and  pitched  our  tents  on  the  common,  where 
we  stopped  three  days  and  nights,  part  of  the  time  it  rained 
and  hailed,  and  we  had  to  dig  small  drains  in  our  tents  to  carry 
off  the  water.  The  bottom  of  our  tents  was  covered  with 
straw,  upon  which  we  slept,  until  the  regiment  whom  we  were 
sent  to  relieve,  went  away, — then  we  went  into  the  barracks. 

Some  of  the  soldiers  and  officers  were  so  vexed  by  the  treat- 
ment which  they  received  that  they  ran  away  from  the  army. 
We  had  at  that  time  the  finest  grenadier  company  that  there 
was  in  the  British  army ;  but  many  of  these  deserted.  There 
were  three  full-sergeants  and  two  color-sergeants  that  deserted. 
The  three  sergeants  went  away  at  one  time,  and  a  police-ser- 
geant that  belonged  to  the  38th  Regiment,  volunteered  to  go 
after  them.  The  sergeants,  as  we  learned,  were  in  a  Scotch 
settlement,  some  distance  from  the  army ;  and  the  police-ser- 
geant, taking  some  other  soldiers  with  him,  went  to  this  settle- 


PEOMOTION  AND  ITS  DANGERS.  93 

ment,  and  found  the  house  where  they  stopped.  Leaving  his 
men  upon  the  outside,  he  went  into  the  house,  and  whilst  in 
the  lower  part,  one  of  the  sergeants  came  down  stairs.  As  soon 
as  the  police-sergeant  saw  him,  he  drew  his  pistol,  and  told  him 
to  stand,  and  that  he  was  his  prisoner  in  the  Queen's  name. 
But  the  other  two  sergeants  came  down,  and  one  of  them 
knocked  the  police-sergeant  over,  and  took  the  brace  of  pistols 
away  from  him,  and  then  they  fought  their  way  through  the 
soldiers  at  the  door,  and  escaped  to  the  States.  The  sergeant 
got  such  a  severe  whipping  that  he  was  laid  by  for  some  time. 

Soon  after  our  regiment  arrived  at  Halifax,  I  was  appointed 
corporal  in  the  Light  Infantry;  this  was  a  great  misfortune  to 
me,  for  it  gave  me  greater  liberty  inside  of  the  barracks,  and 
plenty  of  drink  outside;  and  I  forgot  the  promise  I  had  made 
God  when  I  was  sick,  and  plunged  deeper  into  dissipation.  I 
was  ordered  to  mount  the  '  ordnance  guard,'  with  some  old  sol- 
diers, and  having  been  recently  appointed,  I  was  expected  to 
stand  treat  for  all  hands.  I  told  them  I  should  not,  for  I  had 
seen  enough  of  the  results  of  drinking  when  upon  duty;  but 
one  of  the  soldiers  said  that  all  corporals  treated  when  appoint- 
ed. I  would  not  consent,  but  one  of  them  brought  a  bottle  of 
brandy,  and  soon  another  was  brought,  until  some  half  a  dozen 
bottles  had  been  drank  by  the  soldiers,  and  they  got  partially 
intoxicated.  What  to  do,  I  could  not  tell!  If  the  command- 
ing officer  should  see  them  in  such  a  condition,  they  would  be 
confined,  and  myself  with  them.  I  therefore  \vent  and  brought 
a  couple  of  pails  of  water,  and  threw  this  on  them,  but  it  did 
not  sober  them,  and  I  then  turned  to,  and  gave  them  a  pretty 
good  thrashing,  which  sobered  them  in  a  great  measure.  When 
we  went  off  from  duty,  the  commanding  officer  inspected  the 
guard,  and  they  passed  all  right. 

I  had  charge  of  fifteen  men,  and  one  of  these  got  a  pass  from 
the  commanding  officer  to  go  out  of  the  barracks  and  stop  all 
night.  His  name  was  Thomas  Wilkinson,  and  he  and  myself 
were  boon  companions,  and  used  to  have  our  times,  generally, 


94  ARREST  AND  A  FIGHT. 

together.  He  was  a  hard  drinker,  and  something  of  a  fighting 
character.  Wilkinson  asked  me  to  come  out  after  tattoo,  and 
I  told  him  I  would,  if  possible.  After  the  roll  was  called,  and 
when  all  the  men  were  asleep  in  the  barrack-room,  I  arose  and 
dressed  myself,  and  went  down  near  the  4  Canteen,'  and  climbed 
over  the  fence,  and  went  up  where  Wilkinson  was,  and  there 
got  something  to  drink.  I  stopped  here  a  short  time,  and  then 
went  to  a  saloon,  and  while  I  was  there  drinking,  a  police-ser- 
geant (the  same  fellow  that  did  not  take  the  sergeants  that 
deserted)  came  into  the  shop  and  asked  me  if  I  had  a  pass.  I 
told  him  that  it  was  none  of  his  business,  as  he  had  nothing  to 
do  with  the  regiment  that  I  belonged  to. 

*  If  you  do  not  tell  me,  I  will  call  in  my  men  at  the  door,' 
said  the  sergeant. 

*  Well,  call  them  in,'  I  said,  and  being  in  drink,  I  was  not 
afraid  to  face  them. 

The  sergeant  called  in  two  men  at  the  door,  and  they  dragged 
me  out  of  the  shop  into  the  street.  As  they  arrived  opposite 
where  I  left  Wilkinson,  I  called  out  for  him  to  come  out,  but 
he  was  too  far  gone  to  pay  any  attention  to  me.  I  had  made 
up  my  mind  not  to  be  carried  to  barracks,  and  intended  to  get 
Wilkinson,  and  both  of  us  I  knew  could  have  flogged  the  ser- 
geant and  two  men  that  he  had  with  him,  easily;  but  as  he  was 
not  with  me,  I  determined  to  do  it  alone. 

The  sergeant  was  in  the  rear,  and  a  man  on  each  side  of  me, 
and  I  took  an  opportunity,  when  their  attention  was  attracted 
in  another  direction,  and  gave  the  sergeant  a  blow  under  the 
chin  that  laid  him  flat  upon  his  back.  Then  turning  quickly,  I 
knocked  down  one  of  the  men  at  my  side,  and  ran  as  fast  as  I 
could  with  the  third  one  after  me  with  a  cane ;  and,  overtaking 
me,  he  knocked  me  down.  I  was  up  in  a  trice  and  off  again,  and 
escaped  the  fellow,  and  passed  the  sentry  and  got  safe  into  bar- 
racks. I  went  to  my  room,  and  there  I  undressed  and  feigned 
sleep,  for  I  supposed  that  I  should  have  callers  soon.  The  po- 
lice-sergeant went  to  the  barracks  and  reported  to  the  major- 


WAKING   UP  AND  THE  TRIAL.  95 

sergeant  that  I  was  out  of  barracks,  and  they  both  went  to  the 
color-sergeant  of  the  regiment  that  I  belonged  to,  and,  in  com- 
pany with  him,  came  to  my  room.  The  major-sergeant,  coming 
to  my  cot,  shook  me  and  managed  to  awake  me.  I  got  up,  and 
wiping  my  eyes,  asked  what  the  trouble  was. 

*  Oh,  the  rascal,'  said  the  police-sergeant,  and  he  swore  that  I 
had  been  out  of  barracks,  and  that  he  could  bring  proof  of  it. 
I  awakened  my  men,  and  they  all  said  that  I  went  to  bed  when 
they  did,  but  the  police-sergeant  being  so  positive,  and  still 
maintaining  it,  the  sergeant-major  said,  'Corporal  Ambler,  you 
may  consider  yourself  under  arrest,'  and  then  the  three  left  my 
room.  If  they  had  examined  my  clothes  they  would  have 
found  evidence  enough  against  me,  for  they  were  covered  with 
mud ;  but  in  the  excitement  they  forgot  it. 

The  next  forenoon  I  was  brought  before  the  commanding 
officer,  and  the  charge  read  against  me  of  breaking  out  of  bar- 
racks and  assaulting  an  officer.  I  had  borrowed  a  pair  of  pants 
and  a  coat,  so  that  I  appeared  before  the  officer  in  pretty  good 
shape. 

The  sergeant-major  had  been  up,  before  I  was  brought  before 
the  officer,  to  the  place  where  I  had  been  the  night  before,  and 
there  learned  that  I  had  been  out  of  barracks.  I  was  aware 
that  he  had  been  out,  and  I  made  up  my  mind  to  tell  the  whole 
story.  I  therefore  told  the  commanding  officer  that  I  had  been 
out  and  up  to  town,  and  perhaps  took  a  drop,  and  while  I  was 
in  a  shop,  the  police-sergeant  came  in  and  asked  me  to  show 
my  pass.  I  told  him  that  it  was  none  of  his  business,  which 
made  him  angry,  and  he  told  me  that  unless  I  showed  my  pass 
he  would  call  in  two  men  that  he  had  at  the  door,  and  take  me 
to  the  barracks.  I  consented  to  the  arrangement,  and  he 
brought  his  two  men  in  and  they  took  me  a  prisoner,  but  that 
they  did  not  carry  me  a  prisoner  to  the  barracks ;  I  went  there 
alone,  and  went  to  bed  and  got  asleep,  and  so  sound  that  the 
sergeant-major  could  hardly  wake  me.  At  this  point  the  ser- 
geant-major and  color-sergeant  were  laughing,  and  the  police- 


93  JOKE  ON  THE  POLICE-SERGEANT. 

sergeant,  seeing  that  he  was  not  likely  to  make  much  out  of  it, 
was  going  out,  when  the  commanding  officer  said : 

'When  you  attempt  to  bring  prisoners  to  the  barracks,  re- 
member after  this  to  bring  them  all  the  way.' 

This  was  a  severe  cut  on  the  police-sergeant,  as  the  incidents 
connected  with  the  three  sergeants  that  deserted,  and  that  he 
did  not  bring  back,  were  fresh  in  the  memory  of  all  present. 
He  left  the  room,  while  those  present  smiled  at  the  remark. 
The  commander  then  turned  and  told  me  to  go  about  my  busi- 
ness, and  not  to  be  brought  before  him  on  any  such  charge 
again,  for  if  I  was  I  should  certainly  be  punished.  I  faced  to 
the  right-about  and  went  out  of  the  room,  finding  at  the  door 
all  my  company  waiting  for  me,  expecting  that  I  should  get 
confused.  As  I  came  out  I  said,  '  It's  all  right,  boys,'  upon 
which  they  gave  a  shout,  and  taking  me  upon  their  shoulders, 
carried  me  to  my  room. 


COOKING   THE  GOOSE.  97 


CHAPTER    XIV. 


THE  soldiers  used  to  have  some  good  times  when  upon  duty, 
and  I  remember  that  one  night  when  I  was  placed  with  three 
men  under  me,  upon  the  Magazine  Guard  (this  was  the  furthest 
guard  from  barracks),  one  of  the  men  asked  me  if  we  should 
have  some  rum ;  but  as  I  had  seen  the  effects  of  it  too  often, 
I  told  him  that  I  would  not  allow  any  to  be  brought.  When 
soldiers  set  their  minds  on  having  rum,  they  will  most  always 
manage  to  get  some,  and  one  of  the  men  said  that  if  I  would 
allow  them  to  get  some,  that  he  would  get  a  goose,  and  another 
said  he  would  get  some  potatoes,  and  upon  this  I  gave  my  con- 
sent. They  went  off  and  soon  returned  with  their  provisions, 
and  we  kindled  a  fire  and  baked  our  goose,  and  cooked  our 
potatoes  and  drank  our  liquor,  and  had,  in  our  opinion,  a  fine 
time. 

A  soldier's  life,  although  it  is  hard  and  dark,  yet  has  some 
bright  spots,  which  are  like  the  oases  in  a  desert.  They  serve 
to  lighten  the  cares  of  a  soldier's  life,  and  cheer  him  in  his  la- 
borious and  irksome  duties.  We  would  look  back  upon  the 
little  sprees  and  good  times  that  we  had  with  pleasure,  as  we 
sat  in  the  barrack-room,  and  laid  out  our  plans  for  the  future. 

As  I  succeeded  well  as  corpoi-al,  and  kept  my  men  in  good 
condition  without  being  confined,  the  color-sergeant  of  the 
company  asked  me  how  I  managed  to  get  along  so  well ;  and, 
in  the  course  of  our  conversation,  he  said,  '  There  is  one  room 
with  ten  men  in  it,  and  some  of  them  are  confined  about  every 
night,  and  I  want  you  to  take  charge  of  the  room,  and  to  com- 
mence to-day.' 

I  went  to  my  new  quarters  and  told  them  that  I  was  appoint- 
7 


H*  REASON  MORE  POTENT  THAN  BLOWS. 

ed  to  take  charge  of  the  room,  and  that  upon  the  commence- 
ment intended  to  have  order.  The  first  night  I  stood  at  the 
door  of  the  barrack,  and  the  first  man  that  came  in  drunk  I 
knocked  down;  the  second  was  served  the  same;  I  thought 
that  it  could  be  stopped  in  this  way,  but  I  found  that  I  was 
mistaken.  The  next  night,  in  carrying  my  plans  out,  I  got  into 
a  regular  fight,  and  one  of  the  men  threw  a  piece  of  iron  at  me 
which  just  grazed  my  cheek  and  struck  the  wall,  leaving  its 
mark.  After  we  got  quieted  down,  I  tiied  to  reason  with  them, 
and  met  with  good  success.  I  told  them  that  I  was  the  young- 
est of  any  of  them,  and  that  I  had  had  before  good  success  in 
taking  care  and  keeping  order  in  my  room,  and  that  now  I  was 
placed  over  them,  as  I  had  been  so  successful.  I  still  fur- 
ther told  them  that  my  reputation  and  my  honor  were  com- 
promised (for  I  had  told  the  color-sergeant  that  I  could  keep 
order),  and  that  I  now  appealed  to  them,  as  men  of  honor,  to 
assist  me.  One  old  soldier,  that  had  been  in  the  army  many 
years,  said,  '  I  will  give  my  word  and  honor  that  I  will  not  get 
drunk  again  while  you  have  charge  of  the  room,  and  I  will  not 
speak  to  the  soldier  that  does.'  This  encouraged  me,  and  I 
thanked  him,  and  from  that  day  it  was  the  best  and  most  or- 
derly room  in  the  barracks. 

I  have  ever  since  that  time  thought  much  of  moral  suasion 
and  have  found  that  man  has  a  heart,  and  that  it  is  never  so 
hardened  but  that  it  is  capable  of  receiving  good  impressions, 
and  being  touched  by  words  of  kindness.  God  has  given  ra- 
tional beings  the  power  of  reasoning,  which  is  the  greatest  and 
most  potent  instrument  thnt  can  be  applied  to  man  to  bring 
him  from  vice  and  evil. 

A  short  time  after  this,  I  was  chosen  to  go  after  a  deserter  to 
Pictou,  some  120  miles  distant,  and  two  men  were  selected  to 
go  with  me  as  an  escort.  Before  we  left,  my  orders  were  given 
me,  and  quarters  were  provided  on  the  way.  We  started  off 
with  our  knapsacks  on  our  backs,  and  our  arms  with  us.  But 
passing  a  detachment  of  the  97th  Regiment,  we  left  our  knap- 


SAFETY  WHERE  THERE  IS  PRAYER.  99 

sacks,  as  they  were  so  heavy  and  impeded  our  progress  consid- 
erably, and  then  continued  our  way.  The  first  day  we  marched 
about  twenty  miles  and  arrived  at  our  billeting  quarters,  where 
we  got  something  to  eat  and  stopped  that  night.  We  only  had 
two  meals  a  day,  one  in  the  morning  before  we  commenced  our 
march  for  the  day,  and  the  other  at  night  where  we  stopped. 
The  next  morning  we  continued  our  march,  and  went  about  the 
same  distance  that  we  did  the  day  before,  and  arrived  at  our 
quarters.  The  third  day  it  rained  hard,  but  we  had  to  travel 
twenty  miles  to  our  stopping-place ;  here  we  all  stood  before  a 
large  fire,  and  dried  ourselves  the  best  we  could.  In  conversa- 
tion with  the  landlord,  I  told  him  our  next  stopping-place. 

'You  must  be  careful  there,'  he  said,  'the  landlord  of  that 
place  is  a  villain ;  but  a  short  time  ago  a  pedlar  was  murdered 
there,  and  if  you  carry  any  money  with  you,  you  had  better 
keep  an  eye  on  it.' 

I  told  him  that  I  thought  that  we  should  not  meet  with  any 
difficulty,  but  thanked  him  for  his  words  of  caution,  and  then 
we  retired  for  the  night.  The  next  day  we  arrived  at  the  tav- 
ern that  the  last  keeper  had  cautioned  me  about,  and  met  the 
landlord  at  the  door.  I  was  immediately  struck  with  his  pleas- 
ant appearance.  As  we  went  into  the  house,  we  saw  his  two 
daughters,  and  I  thought  to  myself,  surely  this  man  can  be  no 
murderer.  When  night  came  I  was  shown  to  a  room  below 
stairs,  while  my  two  men  were  carried  up-stairs ;  this  I  thought 
looked  suspicious,  but  I  kept  all  the  firelocks  in  my  room,  and 
told  the  men  that  if  they  heard  an  alarm  to  hurry  down  as  soon 
as  possible  to  my  assistance.  When  I  laid  down  for  the  night 
I  put  a  firelock  at  my  side ;  but  I  could  not  sleep,  my  thoughts 
were  running  upon  what  the  tavern-keeper  had  told  me  in  re- 
gard to  the  man  whose  roof  I  was  under.  As  I  lay  there,  I 
heard  some  one  approaching  my  room  who  seemed  to  stop  at 
my  door.  I  seized  my  firelock,  and  as  I  was  accustomed  to 
challenge  when  upon  sentry, I  cried  out,  'who  comes  there?'  I 
received  no  answer,  and  as  I  heard  no  more  noise  I  laid  down 


100  THE  ATTACK  ON  THE  ROAD. 

again  upon  my  bed,  but  as  I  was  still  listening,  I  heard  voices. 
I  arose  and  went  to  the  door  and  listened  ;  it  was  the  voice  of 
the  landlord  in  prayer;  and  as  he  concluded,  the  daughters  fol- 
lowed, and  they  concluded  by  singing  a  hymn.  I  felt  more  se- 
cure after  hearing  those  prayers  than  I  did  with  my  guns  by  my 
side,  and  I  threw  aside  my  firelocks,  and  laid  down  and  slept 
sweetly.  The  next  morning  we  tried  to  get  some  rum  of  the 
landlord,  but  we  were  not  successful  (we  had  got  it  every 
morning  before),  and  we  had  to  leave  without  it. 

We  had  traveled  some  five  or  six  miles  when  I  befyan  to  feel 

o 

faint  and  hungry,  and  I  told  my  men  to  keep  on  whilst  I  went 
into  a  cabin  by  the  side  of  the  road,  and  got  something  to  eat. 
I  had  been  so  used  to  my  rum  that  I  could  not  get  along  with- 
out it.  I  went  into  the  cabin  where  there  was  an  elderly  lady 
and  her  sick  daughter  that  was  near  death,  and  I  asked  her  if 
she  would  get  me  something  to  eat.  She  brought  me  a  cup  of 
coffee  and  a  buckwheat  cake,  which  tasted  good  to  me ;  after 
eating  I  offered  the  woman  some  money,  but  she  would  not  take 
it,  and  thanking  her,  I  left  the  cabin  to  overtake  my  men,  but 
they  were  some  distance  before  me.  As  I  was  hurrying  through 
a  piece  of  woods  to  overtake  them,  a  man  jumped  out  from  the 
bushes  before  me  with  a  bayonet  in  his  hand,  and  approached 
me  in  a  threatening  manner.  I  presented  my  bayonet  and  made 
a  rush  toward  him,  upon  which  he  turned  and  took  to  his  heels, 
and  jumping  over  a  ditch  by  the  side  of  the  road,  he  dropped 
the  bayonet  out  of  his  hand.  I  crossed  the  ditch  and  picked  it 
up,  and  continued  on  my  way,  and  soon  came  up  with  my  men, 
and  showed  them  my  bayonet  that  I  had  captured  in  my  attack 
upon  the  man  who  had  assaulted  me. 

We  continued  on  our  way,  and  arrived  at  our  place  for  re- 
freshment and  there  I  showed  the  bayonet,  and  the  keeper  said 
that  he  had  had  two  horses  stolen  from  him,  and  that  a  number 
of  the  families  around  had  lost  some  articles.  We  immediate- 
ly gathered  some  of  the  neighbors,  and  started  off  in  pursuit  of 
the  robber.  The  next  day  we  came  to  a  village  about  twenty 


TUE  SMASH   UP.  101 

miles  from  my  place  of  destination,  and  found  my  quarters  and 
had  something  to  eat,  and  then  I  went  with  my  men  into  the 
bar-room.  Whilst  there  a  number  of  young  men  came  in,  and 
we  had  a  pretty  merry  time.  One  young  man,  of  about  my  size, 
wished  me  to  exchange  my  military  clothes  for  his,  and  then 
for  me  to  go  with  him  to  his  father's  house,  which  was  about 
three  miles  from  the  tavern. 

I  was  ready  for  any  kind  of  sport,  and  therefore  willingly 
complied  with  the  request,  and  we  went  into  an  adjoining  room 
and  exchanged  clothes,  and,  going  out,  we  got  into  a  carriage 
which  the  young  man  had  there,  and  started  for  his  house.  We 
had  both  taken  too  much  liquor  to  navigate  a  horse  well,  and 
at  the  first  start  had  some  narrow  escapes.  We  had  gone  about 
a  mile,  when  we  came  into  a  clearing,  where  the  road  was  not 
easily  discernible.  We  were  going  about  twelve  knots  an  hour 
when  the  chaise  all  at  once  sunk  into  a  ditch,  and  stopping  sud- 
denly, I  was  thrown  forward  on  to  the  horse's  back.  The  horse 
breaking  away,  and  jumping  at  the  same  time,  somewhat  dis- 
turbed my  equilibrium,  and  I  fell  into  the  mud,  while  he  went 
off  at  full  speed.  In  a  short  time  I  came  to  myself,  when  hear- 
ing a  noise  near  me,  I  thought  I  was  on  sentry,  and  cried  out, 
'  Who  comes  there  ? ' 

'  Why,  don't  you  know  me  ? '  said  my  companion. 

'  I  don't  think  that  you  would  know  me]  I  said,  '  for  I  am  in 
the  mud,  and  my,  or  I  would  say  your  clothes  are  pretty  well 
daubed.  But  where  are  you?' 

'  Well,  I  am  in  the  mud  too,  and  I  believe  that  I  have  broken 
my  wrist.' 

'Well,  I  profess  to  be  something  of  a  doctor,  if  you  will  just 
come  and  pull  me  out,  I  will  see  to  your  wrist.'  1  was  begin- 
ning to  get  pretty  sober,  as  the  cold  mud  and  water  had  a  won- 
derful influence  on  me. 

'I  am  out,'  said  my  companion,  and  coming  to  where  I  lay, 
he  took  hold  of  my  hand  and  pulled  me  out. 

One  glance  at  my  military  clothes  showed  me  that  they  were 


ON  A  LARK. 

none  the  better  for  this  night's  excursion,  and  I  saw  a  number 
of  places  torn,  but  I  consoled  myself  with  the  thought  that 
there  were  none  here  to  inspect  them.  After  brushing  off  the 
mud,  we  started  for  our  horse,  but  not  finding  him,  we  contin- 
ued on  our  way.  We  soon  arrived  at  the  young  man's  house, 
and  found  that  the  horse  had  arrived  all  right.  My  companion 
went  up  to  the  door  and  knocked.  The  door  was  opened  by 
his  father,  when  he  said, '  Can  you  accommodate  two  poor  sol- 
diers here  to-night?'  The  old  gentleman  said  that  he  did  not 
think  that  he  could,  and  was  just  pushing  the  door  to,  when 
the  young  man  said, '  I  have  no  place  to  sleep  to-night,  and  it 
is  rainy,  and  I  should  like  to  sleep  on  the  floor,'  upon  which  the 
old  man  opened  the  door  wide,  and  we  went  into  a  room  where 
the  young  man's  mother  Avas,  who  eyed  us  rather  narrowly, 
and  then  turned  to  her  son  who  had  on  my  clothes,  and  ex- 
claimed, 'My  son,'  and  fainted.  She  soon  came  to,  and  I  was 
treated  finely  by  the  old  people,  and  then  started  to  go  back, 
the  young  man  showing  me  the  way. 

The  next  morning  we  resumed  our  march  and  soon  arrived 
at  Pictou,  and  went  to  the  jail  and  found  the  prisoner  there. 
As  it  was  night,  and  I  had  an  order  on  a  tavern  for  refresh- 
ments and  lodgings,  I  left  the  jail  with  my  men,  and  put  up. 


FASTENED   TO  THE  PRISONER.  103 


CHAPTER    XV. 


THE  next  morning  we  went  to  the  jail  and  saw  the  sergeant, 
who  gave  the  prisoner  into  my  hands,  saying,  'Here  is  a  desert- 
er from  the  army ;  by  orders  that  I  have  received,  I  give  him 
over  into  your  hands.'  I  took  the  prisoner  and  put  on  the 
handcuff's,  and  started  for  Halifax.  After  going  about  a  mile, 
I  told  the  prisoner  that  if  he  would  give  me  his  word  not  to 
attempt  to  escape,  I  would  take  the  handcuffs  off.  He  replied 
that  he  would  not  give  me  any  trouble,  and  I  took  them  off. 

That  day  we  stopped  at  the  place  that  we  had  been  billeted 
to,  and  I  was  troubled  how  to  take  care  of  my  prisoner.  I  felt 
that  1  had  something  at  stake,  and  thought  that  it  was  of  as 
much  importance  as  if  I  had  a  thousand  to  look  after.  After 
much  reflection  upon  the  subject,  I  thought  of  a  plan;  I  there- 
fore slept  with  the  prisoner,  and  had  my  left  han  1  handcuffed 
to  his  right  one,  feeling  pretty  confident  that  my  prisoner  could 
not  get  away  without  my  knowing  something  about  it. 

I  think  that  this  way  of  securing  a  prisoner  was  original,  but 
I  would  not  recommend  it,  especially  if  a  person  wishes  to  sleep 
much.  Every  time  the  prisoner  turned,  it  would  cut  my  wrist, 
and  every  time  I  turned,  it  would  cause  the  prisoner  to  cry 
out,  and  vice  versa.  To  say  that  I  felt  as  tired  in  the  morning 
as  I  did  the  night  before,  would  convey  no  idea  of  my  condi- 
tion. If  I  had  been  three  days  and  nights  upon  a  forced  inarch, 
without  closing  my  eyes  to  sleep,  I  could  not  have  felt  worse, 
and  I  thought  that  the  next  time  I  took  a  prisoner,  I  would  let 
him  go  before  I  would  torture  myself  ns  I  did  that  night. 

The  next  morning  we  resumed  our  march  and  arrived  with- 
out any  adventures  to  our  quarters,  where  we  stopped  for  the 
night.  The  next  day  was  the  Sabbath,  and  I  made  up  my 


104  THE  ATTEMPTED  ESCAPE. 

mind  to  stop  at  this  place  during  the  day.  I  therefore  had  my 
prisoner  lodged  in  jail,  telling  the  keeper  at  the  same  time  that 
I  should  look  to  him  for  his  8*afe  keeping,  an:l  then  went  to 
church.  After  meeting  I  went  to  the  jail,  as  I  felt  somewhat 
anxious,  as  some  prisoners  had  made  their  escape  from  the  jail 
where  I  had  put  my  man.  I  found  all  right,  but  the  mnn  wished 
to  come  out  and  walk  around  some,  he  said,  so  I  told  the  jailer 
to  let  him  out,  and  I  presented  bayonet,  and  the  prisoner 
marched  before.  We  had  gone  some  fifty  yards,  and  had  got 
out  of  the  main  streets,  when  the  prisoner  turned  around  rather 
fierce  at  me,  and  started  to  run.  I  cocked  my  firelock,  and 
sung  out  for  him  to  stop,  or  he  was  a  dead  man,  which  he  quick- 
ly did,  and  coming  up  with  him,  I  told  him  to  'right  about 
face,'  and  marched  for  the  jail.  After  giving  him  into  the  hands 
of  the  jailer,  I  went  to  the  tavern,  and  found  that  my  two  men 
were  drinking  in  the  bar-room  with  two  deserters  that  were 
there,  and  they  agreed  among  themselves  to  rob  and  kill  me, 
and  then  to  leave  with  the  money,  as  I  had  some  little  with  me. 
One  of  my  men  that  was  with  me  was  an  old  soldier  that  had 
been  in  the  army  fourteen  years,  and  he  thought  to  himself, 
that  in  seven  years  more  he  would  receive  a  pension  for  life, 
and  he  therefore  determined  to  have  nothing  to  do  in  the  affair, 
and  came  and  told  me  the  whole  story.  One  of  these  deserters 
was  the  same  man  that  took  care  of  me  when  I  was  sick  in  the 
hospital,  and  took  my  Spanish  dollar  and  exchanged  boots  with 
me,  and  I  can  assure  you  that  I  had  no  very  friendly  feelings 
toward  him  at  that  time.  I  told  my  escort,  or  the  one  that  in- 
formed me  of  the  plot,  that  he  had  better  appear  the  same  as 
if  nothing  had  been  said  about  it,  and  when  they  came  to  my 
room  I  would  be  ready  for  them.  This  conversation  was  in  the 
bar-room,  and  seeing  one  of  the  deserters  coming  in,  my  escort 
stepped  out  of  the  way.  As  he  came  in,  a  thought  struck  me, 
and  I  spoke  to  him  and  said, '  Did  you  not  see  two  escorts  who 
are  in  the  village  in  search  of  you  and  your  companion  ?  now, 
take  my  advice,  and  leave  as  quick  as  possible,  or  you  will  be 


A   COMICAL  POSITION  ON  GUARD.  1Q5 

taken.'  He  turned  pale  as  I  was  telling  him  about  the  escort, 
and  left  immediately,  and  I  have  never  seen  either  of  them 
since. 

The  next  morning  I  commenced  my  march,  and  reached  Hal- 
ifax after  being  absent  sixteen  days,  fourteen  of  which,  if  I  am 
riot  mistaken,  it  rained.  I  lo;lged  my  prisoner  in  jail,  and  he 
was  kept  there  six  months,  and  was  then  sent  to  England, 
where  he  was  confined  in  prison  about  three  months,  and  was 
then  liberated,  and  went  to  America. 

The  next  guard  that  I  mounted  was  over  the  prisoners.  The 
sergeant-major  picked  me  out  for  this  guard,  as  he  said,  because 
it  was  an  easy  one,  I  having  just  returned  from  a  hard  march. 
I  had  to  go  on  guard  at  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  and  stop 
till  eight  o'clock,  and  all  this  time  I  was  not  allowed  to  speak 
aloud  or  laugh.  I  had  to  sit  on  a  seat  erected  on  one  side  of 
the  room,  and  on  this  seat  I  could  look  over  all  the  prisoners. 
On  the  opposite  side  was  the  provost-sergeant,  who  had  charge 
of  the  prisoners.  When  I  went  into  the  room  where  the  pris- 
oners were,  all  in  rows,  I  noticed  many  that  I  knew,  and  had 
been  with  many  times  on  a  spree ;  and  as  the  prisoners  were 
not  allowed  to  speak,  those  that  knew  me  began  to  make  signs. 
I  went  up  and  took  my  seat,  but  it  seemed  a  strange  place  for 
me.  All  the  prisoners  were  facing  me,  and  one,  a  drummer,  a 
comic  and  mimicking  fellow,  looked  very  sober  at  me  all  the 
while.  Those  around  him  began  to  smile,  and  I  began  now  to 
comprehend  his  meaning.  The  fellow  was  pretending  that  I 
was  a  preacher.  I  burst  out  into  a  loud  laugh,  in  which  all  the 
prisoners  joined,  which  astonished  the  provost-sergeant,  and 
he  said  that  he  would  report  me  to  the  commanding  officer. 
One  of  the  prisoners  now  spoke  and  said  that  the  provost-ser- 
geant had  no  right  to  speak,  and  general  confusion  ensued. 
This  guard  was  the  hardest  one  I  ever  had. 

The  next  guard  I  went  upon  was  the  citadel  guard.  Previ- 
ous to  my  mounting  this,  an  officer  belonging  to  the  Scotch 
highlanders  brought  in  thirty-six  deserters,  who  were  trans- 
ported, and  put  in  the  dry-room,  a  place  where  criminals  were 


106  GETTING  FAST  IN  THE  GRATES. 

kept.  The  building  was  of  granite,  and  the  windows  were  se- 
cured by  strong  iron  bars,  to  prevent  the  prisoners  escaping.  A 
sergeant  went  every  two  hours  through  the  room  where  the 
prisoners  were,  and  with  a  piece  of  iron  would  let  it  strike 
against  the  bars  as  he  passed,  to  see  if  any  of  them  had  been 
sawed  into.  One  of  the  prisoners,  during  the  intervals  of  the 
sergeant's  visits,  sawed  a  bar  of  iron  off,  and  made  a  passage 
large  enough  to  admit  a  person,  and  through  this  quite  a  num- 
ber escaped.  One  large  man  in  endeavoring  to  get  through,  got 
wedged  in,  so  that  he  could  not  get  back,  and  the  other  prison- 
ers finding  they  could  not  get  him  out,  informed  the  sentry,  who 
gave  the  alarm,  and  soon  the  whole  guard  turned  out,  and  open- 
ing the  door  of  the  dry-room,  saw  the  man  fast  in  the  window. 
We  pulled  him  back,  but  I  certainly  thought  it  would  kill  him, 
and  then  started  in  pursuit  of  those  that  had  escaped.  We  were 
not  successful,  and  although  detachments  were  sent  throughout 
the  surrounding  country,  we  never  heard  from  them.  How  they 
escaped  out  of  the  fortress  we  never  knew,  for  after  getting  out 
of  the  window,  they  had  to  drop  some  ten  feet  to  the  ground, 
and  then  they  were  inside  of  a  granite  wall  some  ten  feet  high; 
this  they  managed  to  scale,  and  thus  effected  their  escape. 

There  was  a  place  called  '  Waterloo  Tavern,'  kept  by  a  man 
named  Murphy ;  it  was  a  low,  miserable  place,  and  one  night  a 
man  belonging  to  the  sappers  and  miners  went  to  this  place,  and 
having  considerable  money  about  him,  was  murdered  and  thrown 
into  a  well.  A  short  time  after,  his  body  was  found  there,  and 
so  enraged  were  the  sappers  and  miners  that  they  determined 
to  have  their  revenge.  They  commenced  to  lay  a  train  of  pow- 
der a  number  of  yards  distant,  and  extended  it  to  the  tavern* 
They  were  some  time  in  accomplishing  the  undertaking,  and 
one  dark  night  they  ignited  the  powder,  an;l  instantly  an  ex- 
plosion took  place,  and  the  building  was  at  once  enveloped  in 
flames.  The  bugler  gave  the  alarm  of  fire,  and  the  engines 
were  hurried  out,  and  great  exertions  were  pretended  to  be 
made  to  subdue  the  flames,  but  it  was  burnt  down,  together 
with  some  persons  in  the  building. 


A  DESERTER'S  STRATEGY.  1Q7 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

IN  our  company  there  was  a  sergeant  named  Pullinger.  He 
was  a  smart,  shrewd  man,  and  had  a  good  education.  He  was 
the  color  sergeant,  and  was  intrusted  with  a  considerable 
amount  of  money,  being  considered  a  very  honest  man.  He 
and  a  man  named  Smith  were  determined  to  leave  the  army. 
Before  leaving,  the  sergeant  bought  himself  a  splendid  suit  of 
clothes,  and  a  footman's  suit  for  Smith ;  and  watching  an  op- 
portunity, made  their  escape,  the  sergeant  taking  considerable 
money  that  was  intrusted  to  him.  They  passed  off  on  the  road 
as  gentleman  and  servant,  and  a  number  of  detachments  of  sol- 
diers who  were  in  pursuit  of  them,  passed  them  on  the  road, 
but  as  the  sergeant  was  dressed  finely,  they  did  not  dare  to  say 
anything  to  him,  although  they  saw  that  he  was  about  the  same 
height  as  one  of  the  deserters. 

They  came  one  day  to  a  guard,  and  Smith,  the  footman,  was 
ahead;  the  guard  stopped  him  and  began  to  inspect  him,  when 
he  told  them  that  his  master  was  a  few  steps  behind,  and  that 
he  would  settle  with  them  for  stopping  his  servant;  and 'upon 
this  they  let  him  go.  The  sergeant  soon  came  along  and  they 
stopped  him,  but  he  told  them  that  he  would  report  their  pro- 
ceedings to  the  commander  for  stopping  a  gentleman  on  the 
road,  and  wished  to  know  if  they  intended  to  insult  him  so 
much  as  to  stop  him  upon  the  pretense  that  he  was  a  deserter. 
He  Avould  have  them  to  know  that  he  was  a  gentleman,  and 
that  he  would  make  them  smart  for  their  behavior.  And  feel- 
ing somewhat  ashamed,  the  soldiers  let  him  ofi^  and  with  his 
footman  he  escaped  to  the  States ;  and  now  lives  in  the  State 
of  New  York. 


108  BRAVERY  HONORED  BY  THE   QUEEN. 

There  was  a  sergeant  in  the  7th  Regiment,  a  very  strong  and 

courageous  man,  named  E .  I  well  remember  receiving 

some  pretty  severe  threshings  from  his  hands,  although  not  so 
large  a  man  as  I  was.  He  was  a  great  drinker,  and  sometimes 
would  come  up  into  our  mess  and  get  so  drunk,  that  we  would 
have  to  carry  him  to  his  quarters.  In  the  Russian  war,  the  ser- 
geant was  on  the  field  of  battle,  and  fell,  pierced  with  nine 
balls,  and  left  on  the  field  for  dead.  He  came  to,  and  getting 
up,  took  a  firelock  that  was  near,  and,  loading  it,  walked  up  to 
the  enemy's  position  where  there  was  a  sentry  on  guard  over 
three  prisoners;  he  fired  and  shot  the  sentry,  and  the  prisoners 
escaped.  They  went  toward  their  quarters,  and  while  going, 
a  field-piece  was  fired  at  them ;  the  ball  grazed  the  sergeant's 
foot,  taking  the  sole  of  his  boot  completely  off.  When  he  ar- 
rived at  his  quarters  the  balls  were  extracted,  and  he  was  soon 
after  sent  to  England  with  a  pension. 

The  Queen  and  her  maids  of  honor  received  him,  her  Majes- 
ty making  some  remarks,  and,  speaking  of  his  brave  conduct, 
offered  him  a  home  in  England,  or  he  might  go  to  Halifax 
where  his  wife  was,  and  make  his  home  there.  The  sergeant, 
thinking  that  there  was  no  place  like  'sweet  home,'  went  to 
Halifax,  and  as  he  left,  one  of  the  maids  of  honor  walked  arm 
in  arm  with  him  to  the  place  of  embarkation,  where  the  Queen 
presented  him  with  a  white  silk  handkerchief,  saying,  '  that  it 
was  hemmed  with  her  own  hands,'  and  was  given  to  him  as  a 
mark  of  her  esteem  for  his  bravery. 

We  remained  in  Halifax  about  twelve  months,  and  then  were 
ordered  to  St.  John,  New  Brunswick.  We  immediately  went 
and  took  our  respective  quarters.  Soon  after  we  came  to  St. 
John  I  was  appointed  sergeant;  this  was  another  bad  thing 
for  me,  it  gave  me  still  greater  liberties.  I  went  in  company 
with  the  sergeants,  who  were  all  drinking  fellows,  and  I  had  the 
privilege  of  drinking  to  the  greatest  excess.  I  had  been  here 
but  a  short  time,  when  one  evening  as  I  was  walking  down  one 
of  the  streets,  I  saw  in  a  window  on  the  opposite  side,  three 


FIRST  INTERVIEW  WITH  MY  WIFE.  1Q9 

young  ladies,  who,  upon  seeing  me,  looked  up,  and  one  of  them 
said,  'Look  at  that  nigger  soldier.' 

On  hearing  this  remark,  I  felt  vexed.  It  did  not  surprise  me, 
however,  for  I  had  burnt  my  face  so  badly  •whilst  in  the  warm 
climate,  that  I  was  almost  black.  I  thought  to  myself  that  I 
would  many  the  one  that  made  the  remark  about  me. 

The  young  woman  who  had  spoken  thus,  was  the  daughter 
of  a  lady  that  lived  in  great  style  and  moved  in  the  first  circles, 
and  how  to  get  acquainted  with  her  was  now  the  question.  I 
knew  a  soldier  in  the  guard-room  that  could  write,  and  I  told 
him  that  I  wanted  him  to  write  me  a  letter,  which  he  accord- 
ingly did,  and  I  sent  it.  I  received  an  answer  the  next  day  that 
checked  my  ardor  a  little.  It  read  thus,  *  How  dare  you,  sir, 
have  the  presumption  to  address  me  a  note  ? '  Short  and  sweet, 
yet  I  determined  to  persevere  in  my  suit,  and  get  acquainted 
with  her. 

Passing  her  house  one  day,  I  saw  her  in  the  garden,  and  went 
around  to  the  back  side  of  the  house,  and  walked  softly  up  be- 
hind her  as  she  was  picking  off  a  rose.  She  heard  my  step,  and, 
turning  around,  was  upon  the  point  of  hurrying  off  to  the  house, 
when  I  said,  'Madam, you  will  excuse  my  presumption,  (I  never 
heard  the  word  before  I  heard  it  read  in  the  letter  that  the 
young  lady  sent  me,  but  I  thought  that  I  must  bring  out  every 
thing  that  I  could,  in  my  opening  speech ;  I  had  got  it  ajl  by 
heart  to  deliver  some  time  before  I  met  her  in  the  garden,)  in 
entering  your  garden  so  unceremoniously,  but  the  beauty  of 
your  flowers  attracted  my  attention,  and  I  hope  you  will  excuse 
my  boldness.'  She  pardoned  me,  and  showed  me  around  the 
garden,  and  soon  after  I  left,  feeling  well  pleased  with  my  suc- 
cess. 

While  at  St.  John,  I  was  appointed  caterer  of  the  sergeant's 
mess,  and  to  sell  rum  to  the  soldiers.  This  berth  gave  me  a 
pretty  good  opportunity  to  drink  as  much  as  I  pleased.  I  drank 
up  all  my  pay,  and  all  my  profits  on  the  liquor,  and  was  very 
dissipated  whilst  I  held  that  berth.  We  used  to  play  cards 


HO  ROW   WITH  THE  SERVANT. 

when  not  on  duty,  and  one  night  one  of  the  officer's  servants 
came  in  to  play,  and  we  all  drank  very  hard.  The  servant  made 
a  mis-play,  and  I  told  him  of  it,  which  made  him  angry,  and  he 
reached  across  the  table  and  struck  me  in  the  face.  I  had  drank 
so  much  liquor  that  I  was  under  its  influence  considerably,  and 
this  enraged  me.  I  jumped  up  and  put  the  light  out,  and 
cleared  the  room  of  all  excepting  the  servant ;  and  now  I  was 
determined  to  give  him  a  threshing.  He  grabbed  me  by  the 
hair  with  one  hand,  and  with  the  other  he  had  me  by  the 
throat.  In  endeavoring  to  free  myself  from  his  grasp,  I  left  a 
large  portion  of  my  hair  in  his  hand.  Then  I  was  at  liberty, 
and  springing  toward  him,  I  seized  him,  and  hurrying  to  the 
door  which  was  open,  I  was  just  upon  the  point  of  pitching  him 
headlong  over  the  verandah,  down  some  twelve  foot  to  the 
pavement  below,  when  I  was  arrested  by  one  of  the  company. 
When  I  got  sobered  down  a  little,  I  felt  extremely  glad  that  I 
was  stopped  from  doing  an  act  whereby  I  have  no  doubt  I 
should  have  taken  human  life,  or  been  the  means  of  it. 

The  next  morning  I  was  awakened  in  ray  cot  by  a  tap  on  the 
shoulder.  I  knew  what  it  meant  well ;  when  a  soldier  has  been 
insulted,  and  wishes  satisfaction,  he  goes  early  in  the  morning 
and  taps  the  person  on  the  shoulder  who  has  insulted  him  as  a 
signal  to  get  up  and  go  fight  it  out.  The  instant  I  felt  the 
touch,  I  was  awake  and  knew  what  was  wanted ;  he  was  the 
one  that  I  shoved  out  of  the  room  the  night  before.  I  tapped 
my  chum,  Tim  Wilkinson,  upon  the  shoulder,  and  asked  him  to 
go  with  me,  and  he  arose,  and  we  went  out.  'How  much  is 
this  for?'  said  I.  'For  a  quart,' replied  the  sergeant.  (The 
first  one  that  received  a  clip  in  the  f  ice,  would  have  to  pay  for 
a  quart  of  rum.)  I  gave  him  the  first  clip,  and  thus  wounded 
honor  was  appeased,  and  the  satisfaction  deemed  complete,  and 
he  paid  the  liquor  and  all  was  settled ;  and  to  tell  the  truth  I 
felt  well  pleased  to  get  off  so  well,  for  he  was  a  powerful  man, 
and  a  superior  boxer,  and  would  have  been  likely  to  have  laid 
me  on  the  ground,  if  he  had  struck  me. 


THE  ORANGEMEN.  lit 

Such  scenes  as  these  were  very  common  with  us  whilst  I  was 
caterer  for  the  mess ;  and  many  were  the  skirmishes  we  had. 

I  was  once  sent  with  a  company  to  take  charge  of  the  maga- 
zine at  Fort  Howe,  Portland,  St.  Johns. 

We  had  a  room  up-stairs  where  we  used  to  play  cards,  and 
many  of  the  citizens  used  to  come  and  .play  with  the  soldiers, 
bringing  liquor  with  them,  and  they  would  sometimes  get 
drunk,  and  quarrel  with  one  another.  One  fellow  who  came 
there  had  lost  both  legs  above  the  knees,  and  he  used  to  get 
drunk  every  time  he  came.  One  night  I  went  with  him  to  his 
home,  as  he  was  so  intoxicated  that  he  could  not  go  alone,  and, 
in  returning  to  my  quarters,  the  police  stepped  up  to  arrest  me 
(thinking  that  I  was  a  drunken  soldier,  as  they  had  just  ar- 
rested some),  but  I  turned  and  made  fight,  knocking  down  the 
one  that  had  seized  me.  and  escaped  to  my  barracks. 

One  of  my  soldiers,  soon  after  my  escape  from  the  police, 
told  me  that  he  saw  a  soldier  of  Number  Two  Company  in  a 
rum-shop  in  citizen's  dress,  and  that  he  intended  to  desert,  and 
if  I  did  not  arrest  and  confine  him,  he  would  report  me  to  the 
commanding  officer.  I  went  down  to  the  shop  where  the  sol- 
dier was,  and  went  in  and  seized  him,  and  told  him  that  he  was 
my  prisoner  in  the  Queen's  name,  and  with  some  considerable 
difficulty  dragged  him  into  a  back  room,  and  then  called  upon 
the  keeper  to  watch  him  whilst  I  went  after  some  of  my  men. 
I  soon  got  them,  and  then  carried  him  to  the  main  guard,  where 
he  was  confined.  About  this  time  the  Orangemen  in  the  prov- 
ince were  making  great  demonstrations,  and  there  was  a  good 
deal  of  ill-feeling  between  them  and  the  Irish  Catholics.  The 
Irish  citizens  had  a  large  banner  flying  in  town,  at  the  foot  of 
the  hill  on  which  Fort  Howe  was  located.  The  Orangemen 
formed  in  line,  and  the  leader — representing  King  William — 
dashed  along  on  his  high-mettled  charger,  and,  drawing  his 
sword,  cleft  down  the  flag.  The  Irish  Catholics  immediately 
commenced  firing  upon  them,  wounding  and  killing  a  number. 
The  Orangemen  retreated  to  their  head-quarters,  and,  arming 


112          ATTEMPT  TO  BURN  A   CATHOLIC  CHURCH. 

themselves,  returned  and  fired  upon  them  indiscriminately, 
some  of  them  pitching  headlong  into  the  streets  from  the  win- 
dows where  they  stood  watching  the  advancing  column.  The 
havoc  was  fearful  on  both  sides.  The  infantry  and  artillery 
were  called  out,  and  charged  upon  both  parties  and  drove  them 
off. 

The  Orangemen  determined  to  burn  the  Catholic  church; 
and  the  priest  getting  wind  of  it,  came  to  me  and  told  me  the 
night  they  had  fixed  upon  for  destroying  his  church,  and  begged 
me  to  prevent  it.  I  told  him  if  the  church  was  fired  it  would 
blow  up  my  magazine,  and  I  would  lose  every  man  before  it 
should  be  done.  He  seized  me  by  the  hand  and  said  he  could 
trust  me.  I  immediately  placed  a  sentry  at  the  church,  and 
notified  my  men  what  would  be  attempted  after  I  had  received 
grand  rounds,  and  the  guard  had  turned  in.  And  here  it  may 
interest  some  to  explain  what  is  meant  by  'grand  rounds.' 

A  field-officer  comes.  The  sentry  challenges.  The  officer  an- 
swers, Grand  rounds.  Sentry  replies,  Stand  grand  rounds,  and 
calls  guard,  turn  out.  The  sergeant  falls  in  the  guard,  then 
takes  two  men  as  escort  and  marches  up  in  front  of  grand 
rounds,  ports  arms,  and  says,  Who  comes  there?  Officer  an- 
swers, Mounds.  Sergeant  says,  What  rounds/  Officer  answers, 
Graii c?  rounds.  Sergeant  says,  Stand  grand  rounds — advance 
one,  and  give  the  countersign.  The  sergeant  receives  the  coun- 
tersign at  the  point  of  the  bayonet,  in  a  low  tone.  Sergeant 
answers,  All  right,  and  orders  the  guard  to  present  arms.  Offi- 
cer asks, ' Is  guard  all  right  ? '  Answer,  'All  right,  sir.'  The  officer 
then  says,  Turn  guard  in.  The  sergeant  then  orders,  Guard, 
shoulder  amis,  right  face;  longe  arms — a  term  used  for  dis- 
missed. Soon  after  having  received  grand  rounds,  as  explained, 
there  was  seen  a  crowd  of  men  slowly  winding  their  way  along 
a  narrow  defile  at  the  foot  of  the  hill.  My  sentry  challenged, 
'Who  comes  there?'  No  answer.  We  were  on  the  watch  for 
them.  Sentry  said,  'All's  not  right.'  I  took  two  men,  advanced 
and  challenged,  and  no  answer.  I  did  so  three  times.  I  called 


SECURED  A  FRIEND.  113 

my  men, — Face  to  the  right  about,  double  march  to  the  rear. 
I  then  ordered  them  to  fall  in  with  the  front  section,  and  gave 
the  word,  Forward  men  by  your  right — prepare  to  charge — 
charge  bayonets,  and  my  men,  on  the  double  quick,  drove  the 
poor  fellows  pell-mell  down  the  hill  like  frightened  sheep. 

This  act,  Avhich  saved  the  church  from  being  burned,  secured 
for  me  the  good-will  of  the  priest,  which  was  turned  to  a  good 
account  afterward,  as  will  appear  in  my  escape  from  the  British 
army.  I  was  ordered  to  stop  at  this  magazine  one  month,  and 
as  the  time  had  now  expired,  I  returned  to  the  barracks. 
8 


114  SEPARATING  THE  BELLIGERANT3. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THERE  was  in  the  company  to  which  I  belonged,  a  sergeant 
named  Smith,  who  one  night  broke  out  of  barracks,  and  on  the 
same  night,  unknown  to  him,  a  private  broke  out.  They  met 
in  a  rum-shop,  and  getting  into  difficulty,  came  to  hard  words. 
The  sergeant  left  the  shop,  and  the  private  followed,  and  over- 
taking him,  they  got  to  fighting,  and  as  this  was  near  the  main 
guard,  the  sentry  gave  the  alarm,  and  as  I  was  on  guard  at  the 
time,  I  ran  to  the  place,  and  seizing  the  sergeant,  separated 
them.  The  private,  taking  a  bottle  from  his  pocket,  was  in  the 
act  of  striking  me,  when  I  gave  him  a  blow  which  knocked  him 
down.  This  sergeant  had  always  favored  me  when  I  got  into 
any  scrapes,  and  he  told  me  to  bear  in  mind  how  he  had  always 
befriended  me.  I  told  him  that  I  would  get  him  out  all  right, 
and  delivered  the  private  into  his  hands,  and  told  him  to  keep 
him,  and  I  would  get  some  men  and  take  him  to  the  guard-room. 
I  soon  brought  a  file  of  men,  and  took  the  private,  and  carried 
him  to  the  guard-room.  The  next  day  he  was  brought  before 
the  commanding  officer.  He  said  that  the  sergeant  had  also 
broken  out  of  barracks.  *  We  are  not  here  to  try  sergeant 
Smith,  but  to  try  you,' said  the  commanding  officer;  and  he 
was  ordered  to  be  put  into  the  cells  for  seven  days. 

Soon  after  this  affair,  the  same  sergeant,  who  was  a  good 
friend  to  me,  was  on  guard,  and  I  wished  to  go  out  of  barracks, 
and  he  gave  me  :i  permit ;  but  on  returning  in  the  morning,  as 
I  was  climbing  over  the  fence,  to  get  into  barracks,  the  sentry 
saw  me,  and  as  he  was  the  same  soldier  that  was  out  with  the 
sergeant,  and  whom  I  had  taken  prisoner,  he  gave  the  alarm ; 


WHY  I  RESOLVED  TO  DESERT. 

but  before  the  guard  came  out,  I  was  in  my  room.  Two  ser- 
geants came  into  my  room,  and  finding  me  there,  said  that  the 
sentry  had  reported  me  out  of  barracks.  The  next  day  I  was 
brought  before  the  commanding  officer,  and  as  the  sentry  brought 
no  proof  against  me,  he  failed  to  make  out  his  case.  I  ordered 
him  to  be  confined  for  telling  a  falsehood,  and  he  got  seven  days 
more  in  the  cells. 

I  was  taken  sick  about  this  time,  and  was  confined  to  the  hos- 
pital about  three  weeks,  before  I  was  able  to  be  upon  duty 
again.  This  sickness  was  owing  in  a  great  measure  to  the  dis- 
solute life  I  led. 

One  night  I  wanted  to  go  out  of  barracks,  and  the  sergeant 
agreed  not  to  inform  against  me,  and  I  went  out,  but  had  not 
been  gone  long,  before  he  reported  that  I  had  broken  out  of 
barracks.  An  escort  was  sent  after  me,  and  I  was  taken  back 
a  prisoner,  and  the  next  day  brought  before  the  commanding 
officer,  who  ordered  that  one  of  my  badges  be  taken  from  my 
coat.  I  felt  this  more  than  I  should  if  I  had  been  cowhided, 
and  I  got  a  soldier  to  write  to  my  '  intended,'  and  inform  her  of 
the  circumstances.  She  wrote  me  an  encouraging  answer,  but 
I  could  not  bear  to  be  thus  disgraced,  and  I  determined  to  take 
advantage  of  the  first  opportunity  to  make  my  escape.  I  got 
the  young  soldier  to  write  to  my  *  intended,'  informing  her  of 
my  intention  to  escape  from  the  army.  The  young  soldier  was 
one  that  I  could  trust — we  were  firm  friends.  I  received  an 
answer,  advising  me  not  to  make  the  venture,  as  she  would  soon, 
if  I  wished  it,  purchase  my  discharge;  but  I  would  not  think  of 
such  a  thing.  I  had  seen  enough  of  the  army,  and  when  sober, 
how  to  escape  was  always  uppermost  in  my  thoughts. 

I  was  encouraged  by  an  incident  that  happened  about  this 
time ;  three  men  who  deserted  and  went  into  the  woods  were 
surrounded,  or  rather  every  place  where  the  deserters  wished 
to  come  out  was  guarded.  After  remaining  there  some  six 
days,  being  nearly  exhausted  with  hunger,  they  came  out  and 
gave  themselves  up  to  a  kidnapper,  as  the  soldiers  termed  him, 


116  THE  KIDNAPPER   GETTING   WHIPPED. 

(one  who  caught  deserters  and  returned  them  to  barracks).  He 
gave  them  something  to  eat,  and  then  secured  them  that  night. 
The  next  morning  he  tied  their  hands  together,  and  taking  them 
into  a  wagon,  started  for  the  barracks.  One  of  the  prisoners 
got  his  hands  loose  as  they  were  riding  along,  and  untied  the 
prisoners  near  him,  and  then  knocked  the  kidnapper  off  his  seat 
into  the  road,  while  another  prisoner  seized  the  reins.  The  kid- 
napper drew  his  pistols,  but  before  he  could  use  them,  he  was 
seized  by  two  of  the  deserters  and  bound.  They  tied  him  to  a 
tree,  and  gave  him  two  dozen  lashes  with  the  whip,  and  then 
getting  into  the  wagon,  rode  into  the  States.  They  then  got 
out  of  the  wagon,  and  started  the  horse  toward  his  home. 

Some  person  liberated  the  kidnapper,  and  I  was  upon  sentry 
when  he  came  into  the  barracks  and  told  his  story,  but  he  did 
not  receive  much  consolation  from  the  soldiers,  who  only  laughed 
at  his  misfortunes,  and  wished  that  he  might  get  another  whip- 
ping. 

Monday,  the  regiment  was  ordered  to  Halifax.  At  twelve 
o'clock  M.,  I  came  off  guard  and  went  to  dinner,  and  then  I 
told  Tim  Wilkinson,  my  chum,  that  I  intended  to  escape,  and 
gave  him  the  key  to  my  chest  and  all  my  things,  and  told  him 
to  keep  silent  about  it.  In  a  short  time  the  orderly  came  to  in- 
spect the  dinner,  and  I  knew  that  now  was  my  best  time,  as  all 
the  men  were  at  dinner,  so  I  went  out  of  my  room  into  the  yard. 
There  was  a  high  fence  with  iron  spikes  in  the  top  (the  fence 
was  eight  feet  high),  and  springing  up,  I  got  hold  with  my  hands 
and  drew  myself  up  and  jumped  over.  Here  I  had  to  get  over 
a  wooden  picket  fence,  which  I  did  somewhat  in  a  hurry,  and 
hastened  to  see  my  '  intended.'  I  arrived  at  the  house,  and  told 
her  that  I  had  left  the  barracks  for  good.  The  mother  of  the 
young  lady  (her  father  being  dead)  seemed  much  pleased  with 
my  endeavoring  to  make  my  escape,  and  I  have  no  doubt  wished 
that  I  would  get  off  so  far  that  I  would  never  trouble  her  daugh- 
ter again,  and  made  me  up  a  bundle  of  clothes,  and  gave  me  a 
sovereign,  and  wished  me  good  luck.  I  told  her  that  I  was 


SHOWING   THEM  A   TBICK.  H7 

afraid  to  go  through  the  streets  with  a  bundle  in  my  hand,  and 
asked  her  if  she  would  not  let  her  daughter  go  to  Portland, 
about  one  and  a  half  miles  distant,  and  carry  my  bundle  forme. 
After  some  time,  I  prevailed  on  her  to  let  her  daughter  carry  it, 
and  we  started  off,  her  daughter  going  some  ten  yards  before 
me.  We  had  gone  but  a  short  distance  before  she  turned 
toward  me,  and  said,  'There's  a  picket  of  soldiers  coming  this 
way,  and  they  are  after  you.'  They  had  been  to  Portland,  St. 
John,  but  not  finding  me  there,  were  returning.  I  looked  up, 
and  saw  them  on  the  top  of  a  little  hill,  not  more  than  fifty 
yards  distant.  '  What  will  you  do  ? '  said  my  intended,  *  you 
will  have  to  give  yourself  up.' 

'No,'  I  said,  'I  will  show  them  a  trick.' 

There  were  two  streets  at  my  left,  that  ran  nearly  parallel, 
and  led  down  to  the  sea-side,  which  were  about  one  hundred 
feet  apart.  I  started  to  run  down  the  one  that  was  nearest  to 
me,  and  the  picket  of  soldiers  started  down  the  other ;  seeing 
them  go  down  the  other  street,  I  turned  back,  and  came  up  with 
my  'intended,'  and  kept  on  for  Portland.  As  I  passed  the 
street,  I  could  not  help  laughing  to  see  them  run  down  the  street 
in  pursuit  of  me. 

I  arrived  at  Portland  without  any  trouble,  and  went  to  see  a 
man  that  I  knew  would  help  me.  I  found  him,  and  he  told  me 
that  he  would  assist  me  in  every  way  he  could. 


118  HOW  I  GOT  MAEEIED. 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

BEFORE  I  left  Portland,  I  wanted  to  get  married,  and  I  had 
tried  to  get  a  license  at  the  Register's  office,  but  could  not 
without  the  consent  of  my  commanding  officer.  I  went  out, 
and  fell  in  with  two  Irishmen,  and  asked  them  to  go  to  the 
Register's  office  and  get  a  license  in  my  name.  They  succeeded 
in  getting  it,  and  I  hurried  back  to  where  I  left  my  'intended,' 
and  with  her  I  went  to  a  Methodist  clergyman  and  was  mar- 
ried, and  giving  my  marriage  certificate  to  my  newly  made 
wife,  I  bade  her  adieu,  and  left  for  the  man  with  whom  I  had 
stopped.  I  exchanged  clothes  and  gave  him  my  military  suit, 
and  when  it  was  dark,  started  off. 

In  the  mean  time  the  regiment  had  started  for  Halifax,  but 
had  left  a  number  of  men,  who,  with  the  police,  were  searching 
the  country  around  for  me. 

Before  going  into  the  woods  I  went  to  a  Scotchman's  house 
and  asked  for  something  to  eat,  but  was  refused,  and  I  went  on 
until  I  came  to  a  house  where  an  Irishman  lived,  who  gave  me 
two  potatoes  and  a  piece  of  fish.  I  told  him  that  I  had  just 
come  from  the  house  below.  *  Well,  that  fellow  will  inform 
against  you,'  he  said,  knowing  that  I  had  escaped  from  the 
army ;  and,  taking  out  a  gun,  *  Here,'  said  he, '  take  this  to  de- 
fend yourself,  and  I  will  run  the  risk  of  your  returning  it.'  I 
took  the  gun,  promising  to  return  it  if  I  lived,  and,  thanking 
him,  left  the  house  and  went  into  the  forest. 

It  was  about  12  o'clock  at  night  when  I  entered  the  woods, 
and  although  darkness  covered  the  earth,  it  seemed  all  bright 
to  me.  I  was  now  my  own  man,  and  felt  like  singing,  but  I 


BIDING  IN  THE   WOODS.  119 

had  to  keep  silence  here,  knowing  soldiers  were  stationed  all 
around  the  forest.  Having  found  a  place  to  lie  down,  I  slept 
well,  and  when  I  awoke  the  sun  was  high  in  the  heavens.  In 
my  haste  to  make  my  escape,  I  never  once  thought  of  taking 
any  provisions  with  me,  but  it  was  in  the  fall  of  the  year,  when 
berries  were  ripe,  or  else  I  must  have  perished  or  given  myself 
up.  I  found  berries  enough,  and  managed  the  first  day  to  get 
a  good  living,  and  made  up  my  mind  to  stay  in  the  woods  as 
long  as  I  could. 

The  second  night  I  slept  on  the  watch,  knowing  that  not  a 
man  of  the  company  would  come  near  to  take  me  in  the  day- 
time, but  fearing  they  might  see  and  watch  me  until  night  came 
on,  and  after  I  was  asleep,  seize  me.  I  did  not  get  much  sleep; 
every  noise  I  heard  aroused  me,  and  I  would  jump  up  and  pre- 
sent my  gun  at  what  I  imagined  was  a  man. 

The  second  day  I  picked  some  more  berries,  but  found  that 
they  did  not  satisfy  my  cravings.  I  had  been  used  to  liquor 
every  day,  and  to  be  deprived  of  it  now  was  as  bad  to  me  as 
taking  away  my  bread,  and  I  hardly  know  which  I  missed  the 
most.  I  wandered  around  all  the  first  part  of  the  day,  and  as 
the  sun  began  to  sink  in  the  heavens,  I  thonght  I  would  try  my 
luck  and  see  if  I  could  not  get  out  safely.  I  had  taken  partic- 
ular notice  of  the  woods  and  the  lay  of  the  land,  so  that  I 
could  find  my  way  out,  and,  taking  ray  course,  started  to  go 
back.  I  walked  quite  briskly  for  about  half  an  hour,  and  began 
to  think  that  it  was  time  for  me  to  get  out  of  the  forest ;  but  I 
kept  on  some  time.  I  had  no  idea  that  I  had  gone  so  far  into 
the  woods,  but  after  walking  some  distance  further,  I  could  see 
the  open  fields. 

I  went  along  now  cautiously,  looking  upon  all  sides  to  see  if 
any  one  was  near;  but  not  seeing  any  person,  I  went  out  into 
a  field.  Finding  myself  not  far  from  the  place  where  I  entered 
the  woods,  I  crossed  the  field  to  the  road,  and  as  I  got  near  it 
I  saw  two  men  coming.  I  thought  if  I  went  back  across  the 
field  they  would  surely  see  me,  so  I  laid  down  beside  the  fence, 


120  NARROW  ESCAPE. 

and  as  they  came  along  I  heard  one  say,  *  He  will  be  shrewd 
enough  not  to  fall  into  their  hands,  I'll  warrant  you.'  *  But,' 
says  the  other, '  how  can  he  get  out  ?  the  places  are  all  guarded, 
and  he  cannot  help  being  taken ' and  here  I  could  not  un- 
derstand what  was  said. 

Well,  I  thought  to  myself,  my  chance  is  a  hard  one,  and  get- 
ting up,  I  looked  about  me  and  saw  a  wagon  coming.  I  must 
keep  still  at  present,  or  I  shall  be  taken.  What  a  fool,  I  said 
to  myself,  am  I  for  coming  out  here  in  open  day.  I  might  have 
known  better,  if  I  had  stopped  to  consider,  than  to  leave  the 
woods.  I  waited  until  the  wagon  had  passed,  and  then  thought 
I  would  make  for  the  forest,  but  I  saw  another  wagon  coming, 
and  I  was  kept  there  until  night,  when  I  returned  to  the  forest, 
feeling  thankful  that  it  once  more  afforded  me  a  secure  retreat. 

I  managed  to  get  some  berries,  which  partially  satisfied  my 
craving  for  food,  and  having  selected  a  place  to  rest,  I  broke 
off  some  twigs,  and  spreading  them  around,  I  laid  down  to 
sleep. 

I  staid  in  this  wood  just  one  week,  when  I  made  up  my  mind 
to  get  out  and  go  down  where  my  wife  lived  and  get  something 
to  eat,  and  run  the  risk  of  being  taken,  as  I  was  almost  starved. 

I  went  to  the  edge  of  the  wood,  and  when  it  was  dark  took 
a  back  route,  and  went  down  to  what  was  called  '  Lower  Cove,' 
and  as  I  was  going  through  the  streets  I  met  two  of  the  ser- 
geants. They  knew  me  the  moment  they  saw  me,  and  I  start- 
ed on  a  run,  into  my  wife's  uncle's  house,  the  sergeants  after 
me.  I  ran  out  of  the  back  door,  down  to  where  my  wife  lived, 
and  went  into  the  house  and  got  something  to  eat  and  a  cup 
of  tea,  and  bidding  my  wife  good-by,  I  hurried  out  of  the 
house,  telling  her  that  I  would  see  her  again  before  long.  I 
went  down  the  street  (it  being  dark  and  the  soldiers  after  me) 
upon  all-fours,  like  a  dog,  until  I  came  to  the  sea-side,  and 
keeping  near  the  water's  edge,  walked  along  until  I  came  to  a 
high  cliff.  I  swam  around  the  several  cliffs,  near  a  mile,  until 
I  came  to  Marsh  Bridge,  and  dragged  myself  upon  dry  land, 


GETTING  AWAY  FROM  THE  INDIANS.  121 

chilled  and  exhausted;  and  here  I  was  a  little  bewildered,  and 
crossed  the  bridge,  taking  my  right-hand  road  instead  of  the 
the  left,  as  I  should  have  done,  before  I  went  over.  I  trudged 
on  in  the  dark  until  I  was  suddenly  seized  by  some  Indians  and 
taken  prisoner  by  them  to  their  encampment. 

The  English  were  at  this  time  paying  the  Indians  five  pounds 
per  man  for  every  deserter  they  could  bring  in.  Of  course  the 
red-skins  were  fast  friends  to  us  lonely  wanderers,  and  were 
ready  to  take  us  in.  I  was  made  to  lie  down  between  two 
strong  fellows,  for  the  night,  to  sleep  if  I  could.  One  thing  was 
sure,  if  I  did  not  sleep,  I  played  sleep  to  the  best  of  my  abili- 
ty. The  Indians  had  been  out  on  a  hunt  during  the  day,  and 
being  pretty  tired,  were  not  long  in  getting  to  noddle's  island ; 
of  which  I  was  notified  by  their  loud  snoring.  Generally  speak- 
ing, snoring  was  very  offensive  to  me  ;  but  I  must  confess,  un- 
der the  peculiar  state  of  things,  no  music  was  so  sweet  as  that 
made  by  the  snouts  of  these  red  men.  And  I  said  inwardly, 
blow  your  nasal  organs  louder  and  longer,  and  keep  doing  so 
until  distance  lends  enchantment. 

I  arose,  first  on  one  knee,  and  then  on  the  other;  and,  look- 
ing round,  I  saw  a  stick  of  wood  against  the  door,  with  which 
I  thought  I  would  brain  the  rascals  ;  but  wisely  decided  their 
blood  should  not  be  on  my  head  if  I  could  get  off  without  it. 
I  finally  succeeded  in  getting  outside  the  wigwam  without  wak- 
ing my  captives,  and  escaped,  by  the  way  I  came,  down  to 
Marsh  biidge ;  and  crossing,  got  upon  the  right  road,  and  un- 
der cover  of  night,  made  my  way  rapidly  up  the  river,  into  the 
woods  to  the  house  of  two  Catholics,  who  had  been  made  my 
true  friends  by  my  charge  on  the  Orangemen  and  saving  their 
church. 

These  two  men  promised  to  help  me  escape  down  the  St. 
John  river,  in  a  small  boat,  to  the  steamer  '  Maid  of  Erin ; '  ly- 
ing at  St.  John,  and  bound  for  the  States.  A  hiding-place  was 
prepared  for  me  in  the  woods,  where  I  had  to  remain  several 
days,  coming  out  occasionally  to  get  something  to  eat.  One 


122  REACHING  THE  STATES. 

morning,  about  three  o'clock,  these  faithful  fellows  came  and 
took  me  down  to  the  steamer,  where  I  was  stowed  down  in  the 
coal-hole.  The  priest  who  came  to  me  at  Fort  Howe  to  save 
his  chnpcl,  had  enjoined  upon  these  men  to  save  me  from  be- 
ing retaken,  under  the  penalty  of  being  anathematized  by  the 
church,  if  they  were  not  f.iithful  to  their  trust.  On  reaching  the 
steamer,  they  told  the  man  who  knew  of  my  coming  on  board, 
if  he  informed  against  me  it  would  not  be  safe  for  him  to  ap- 
pear in  St.  John  again.  I  kneAV  that  before  the  steamer  sailed 
officers  would  be  on  board  to  search  for  deserters,  so  I  dug 
down  into  the  coal,  covering  myself  entirely  with  it,  until  the 
officers  had  made  their  search  and  left. 

After  the  steamer  had  got  under  way,  I  showed  myself  on 
deck,  and  the  ticket  master  coming  along,  wanted  my  fare, 
which  was  two  dollars.  Having  but  one  dollar,  I  got  the  helms- 
man to  lend  me  another,  and  told  him  that  my  wife  would  pay 
him. 

I  intended  to  get  out  at  Eastport,  but  as  there  was  a  severe 
storm,  the  boat  could  not  land,  and  I  went  to  Portland,  Maine. 
When  the  boat  touched  the  wharf  I  jumped  out,  and  asked  the 
captain  if  I  was  on  '  Yankee  land  ? '  '  Yes,'  says  the  captain, 
staring  at  me,  as  I  jumped  \ip  and  gave  three  cheers,  'but  are 
you  Sergeant  Ambler  ? '  '  That's  my  name,'  I  said.  The  cap- 
tain turned  and  went  below. 

Now  I  felt  that  I  was  free,  and,  turning  around,  hardly  knew 
what  to  do,  I  felt  so  happy;  it  had  been  so  long  since  I  had  en- 
joyed freedom,  that  I  was  like  a  bird  let  out  of  a  cage.  I  felt 
that  I  was  in  a  new  world ;  the  great  country  that  I  had  heard 
of  from  my  youth  up,  and  for  which  I  had  sighed  when  in  the 
lonely  hours  of  night  I  kept  rny  sentry  watch,  or  when  beneath 
a  scorching  sun  I  marched  many  a  weary  mile,  was  now  before 
me.  This  free  country  (of  which  so  many  songs  were  heard 
around  the  tap-room  bar,  as  we  would  quaff  the  ale,  and  jovially 
pass  the  time  away)  I  had  now  reached. 

As  I  stood  upon  the  wharf,  what  prospects  seemed  to  be  be- 


GENERAL  SOLILOQUY. 

fore  me !  Everything  looked  beautiful,  and  I  thought  that  at 
last  I  had  reached  a  land  where  I  could  enjoy  life.  No  more 
court-martials  to  be  tried  before,  no  more  shall  I  be  brought 
before  commanding  officers,  to  answer  to  charges  brought  against 
me.  And  above  all  these,  I  thought,  no  more  liquor  to  take 
away  my  reason,  and  make  me  incapable  of  performing  the 
duties  incumbent  upon  me.  No  more  restraints  upon  my  ac- 
tions, I  can  now  live  as  I  choose,  and  go  where  I  wish.  Had  I 
been  permitted  to  look  into  the  future,  I  should  have  shuddered 
at  the  gloomy  wretched  prospect  before  me,  and  should  have 
turned  with  disgust  from  the  country  that  looked  so  beautiful, 
and  returned  to  the  army.  How  thankful  should  we  be  that 
the  future,  with  its  weal  or  woe,  cannot  be  revealed  to  us. 

I  thought  that  I  stood  in  the  same  position  that  the  Pilgrim 
fathers  did.  They  left  their  native  land  for  this  country,  to 
free  themselves  from  tyranny  and  oppression.  But  I  thought 
again,  tthat  no  friends  welcomed  them,  and  the  bustle  that 
greeted  me  they  did  not  witness.  They  landed  indeed  in  a 
sfcrange  land ;  the  wild  animal  was  lord  there,  and  forest  trees 
covered  these  shores.  How  great  the  change !  Friends  were 
here  to  welcome  me,  who  had  escaped  from  the  army. 

And  as  these  thoughts  came  upon  me,  I  could  not  but  un- 
cover my  head  and  pay  a  tribute  of  respect  to  the  noble  land 
that  sheltered  and  defended  me  and  so  many  of  my  country- 
men. Only  those  who  have  passed  through  the  scenes  that  I 
have  can  realize  the  emotions  that  were  stirred  within  me  as  I 
stepped  upon  the  land  of  freedom. 


124.  GETTING  POSTED. 


CHAPTER    XIX. 


I  WENT  up  into  the  city,  and  as  I  came  near  the  sugar-house 
I  met  a  woman  that  knew  me,  and  she  said,  *  There  is  Sergeant 
Ambler  coming.'  Her  husband  belonged  to  the  artillery,  and 
had,  a  short  time  before,  made  his  escape  from  St.  John. 

She  asked  me  into  her  house  and  gave  me  something  to  eat. 
With  what  eagerness  I  seized  the  food  and  devoured  it,  for  I 
had  been  without  so  long,  that  I  was  nearly  starved.  When  I 
went  on  board  the  steamboat  I  had  a  small  piece  of  bread, 
which  I  ate,  and  that  was  all  I  had  eaten  for  three  days,  I  now 
felt  very  hungry  and  weak. 

I  informed  her  that  I  had  got  away  from  the  army  at  last, 
and  that  I  supposed  it  was  'easier  for  her  to  get  along  here  than 
it  was  in  the  other  country,  when  she  stood  behind  the  tap- 
room bar — she  used  to  sell  liquor  in  St.  John.  '  What  do  you 
mean?'  she  asked. 

*  Why,  that  they  do  not  sell  rum  here  in  this  place.' 

She  laughed,  and  said, '  I  guess  that  you'll  find  as  much  liquor 
as  you  will  want  here.' 

'  Why,'  I  said,  *  I  thought  there  was  a  law  here  that  forbids 
liquor  selling.  I  have  heard  the  people  in  St.  John  speak  of 
it.' 

'You  wait  here  a  short  time  and  you  can  judge  for  yourself,' 
ehe  said. 

I  remained  a  short  time  there,  and  soon  her  husband  came, 
who  appeared  very  glad  to  see  me,  and  after  lighting  our  pipes, 
I  told  over  my  adventures  that  I  had  passed  through  in  making 
my  escape.  He  also  related  to  me  what  success  he  had  met 


GETTING   TO   WOEK.  125 

with  in  the  'Yankee  land,'  as  we  designated  the  United  States. 
I  informed  him  of  rny  marriage,  and  that  my  wife  was  in  St.  John, 
and  that  if  I  obtained  work  here  I  intended  to  send  for  her. 

*  Well,  come  Ambler,'  he  said,  'let  me  show  you  around  a 
little,'  and  he  took  me  out  into  a  back  room  and  pulled  out  a 
keg  from  under  the  bed,  and  drew  off"  some  liquor,  and  filling 
up  a  glass,  presented  it  to  me,  which  I  drank.  It  had  been  so 
long  since  I  had  drank,  that  it  created  an  intolerable  thirst  for 
more,  and  before  I  was  fully  aware  of  it,  I  was  intoxicated. 

I  stopped  in  that  back  room  that  night,  and  the  next  morn- 
ing went  to  find  work,  and  was  successful  in  getting  a  chance 
on  the  railroad,  shoveling  gravel.  I  received  one  dollar  per 
day,  which  I  thought  was  great  pay,  and  that  I  could  live  and 
drink  like  a  hero,  not  taking  into  consideration  that  things 
were  more  than  twice  as  high  here  as  they  were  in  England. 
I  worked  here,  with  nothing  on  my  feet  but  a  pair  of  slippers, 
in  the  water  sometimes  knee-deep,  but  my  '  boss,'  taking  pity 
upon  me,  gave  me  a  nice  pair  of  thick  boots.  I  worked  here 
about  three  weeks  before  I  settled,  and  found  that  a  good  part 
of  what  money  I  received,  would  have  to  go  to  pay  for  the 
liquor  that  I  drank,  as  I  took  it  regularly,  night  and  morning, 
and  I  found  that  it  was  sold  some  higher  here  per  glass. 

While  I  was  at  work  here,  I  sent  for  my  wife,  telling  her  that 
I  had  obtained  work,  and  that  I  should  like  for  her  to  come  on. 

My  wife's  lather  had  lived  at  D ,  and  owned  a  fine  form 

there.  He  was  a  ship-builder  and  transacted  considerable  bus- 
iness, but  he  died  in  the  midst  of  it,  and  thus  left  many  unset- 
tled accounts,  and  as  there  was  no  one  to  look  out  for  the 
property,  it  was  soon  reduced,  and  the  fine  farm  had  to  be  sold. 

The  family  then  moved  to  St.  John,  and  as  they  went  in  the 
first  society  and  lived  in  good  style,  they  had  to  keep  up  ap- 
pearances, which  they  did,  by  selling  piece  after  piece  of  their 
furniture,  as  it  could  be  spared.  When  I  first  became  acquaint- 
ed with  my  wife,  they  were  somewhat  reduced  in  circumstances. 

My  wife  was  not  aware  that  I  was  such  a  drinking  man  as  I 


126  SETTING   UP  HOUSE-KEEPING. 

was ;  if  she  had  been  she  would  never  have  come  to  Portland 
to  live  with  me.  I  had  always  kept  pretty  sober  when  I  was 
going  to  see  her;  and  if,  when  under  the  influence  of  liquor,  I 
met  her  upon  the  street,  I  would  keep  as  distant  as  possible, 
and  take  the  first  opportunity  to  absent  myself;  and  although 
she  was  told  by  others,  she  could  not  believe  that  I  was  as  bad 
as  they  represented  me.  I  soon  received  a  letter  from  her,  tell- 
ing me  that  she  would  come  in  the  boat  such  a  day.  I  was  at 
the  wharf  on  the  arrival  of  the  boat,  and  met  her,  and  we 
went  to  the  place  that  I  had  stopped  and  remained  there  that 
night;  but  as  they  could  not  accommodate  us,  and  as  my  wife 
had  brought  some  furniture  with  her,  we  took  a  rent  in  an  attic. 
It  was  a  miserable  place.  We  could  see  out  through  the  roof, 
and  were  never  long  in  finding  out  when  it  rained. 

I  did  not  like  my  situation  on  the  railroad,  and  went  to  tht 
gas-works,  and  obtained  a  situation  in  the  purifying  house,  where 
I  received  the  same  pay.  Soon  after,  I  moved  into  a  tenement 
in  the  house  of  my  employer,  named  Barker,  who  took  quite  an 
interest  in  me,  and  did  many  favors  for  me,  which  I  never  shall 
forget. 

In  a  short  time,  I  moved  into  the  upper  part  of  the  city,  into 
an  old  house,  and  while  there  my  wife  was  taken  sick.  During 
her  sickness  I  still  had  to  work,  leaving  her  alone  until  I  re- 
turned from  my  labor.  She  was  very  sick,  and  while  thus  she 
made  me  promise  that  I  would  leave  off  drinking.  In  a  short, 
time,  she  began  to  recover,  but  when  she  got  about  I  forgot  my 
promise,  and  drank  the  same  as  ever.  The  house  we  lived  in 
was  so  cold  that  we  could  not  keep  ourselves  comfortable,  and 
I  therefore  got  a  tenement  down  by  the  sugar-house ;  and  soon 
after  I  moved,  my  wife's  mother  came  to  visit  us. 

It  was  now  near  the  spring  election,  and  in  the  shop  where  I 
obtained  my  liquor  all  of  the  talk  was  upon  that  subject;  and 
we  were  told  that  if  such  a  man  was  elected,  that  we  should 
get  no  liquor,  and  that  if  we  were  suspected  of  keeping  any  at 
our  houses,  that  we  were  liable  to  have  our  homes  searched.  I 


RUM  AND   WRETCHEDNESS.  127 

wished,  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart  (as  all  poor  drunkards  do), 
that  all  strong  drinks  were  out  of  the  way ;  but  then  the  rum- 
seller  told  us  that  assembled  there,  that  our  rights  were  assail- 
ed ;  and  as  I  was  a  great  stickler  for  rights,  of  course  my  indig- 
nation was  aroused,  and  with  the  rest  I  loudly  asserted  that  I 
would  never  submit  to  have  my  home  searched.  This  was  a 
constant  theme  for  some  time  before  the  election,  and  although 
I  was  not  a  voter,  I  felt  as  much  interest  in  the  result  as  any 
one.  The  day  of  the  election  came,  and  I  was  treated,  as  about 
all  were,  to  plenty  of  rum ;  and  we  were  told  that  at  night  they 
— that  is,  the  rummies,  were  going  to  give  Neal  Dow*  a  sere- 
nade. I  was  in  for  it,  with  the  rest  of  them,  as  I  was  intoxi- 
cated, and  at  night  I  was  amongst  the  gang  of  ruffians  (as  I  look 
upon  them  now)  and  went  with  them  to  his  residence.  There 
we  commenced  our  unearthly  strains,  and  made  the  air  resound 
with  our  noise,  and  the  night  hideous.  No  notice  was  taken  of 
our  demoniac  exhibitions,  and  at  last  we  left  disgusted,  or  I  was, 
with  the  evening's  entertainment. 

I  drank  so  hard  that  my  wife's  mother  could  not  put  up  with 
it,  and  she  got  me  to  go  with  her  to  New  York,  where  she  had 
a  son.  When  I  arrived  there,  her  son  showed  me  around  the 
city  and  the  suburbs ;  but  as  they  lived  in  good  style,  and  as  I 
was  not  used  to  it,  I  did  not  feel  at  home ;  so  the  next  morn- 
ing, before  they  were  up,  I  started  off,  and  went  to  an  island 
near,  where  there  was  a  regiment  of  soldiers,  and  saw  many 
there  that  I  knew.  They  wanted  me  to  go  with  them  to  Cali- 
fornia, as  that  was  the  place  they  were  ordered  to ;  but  I  would 
not  go,  and  I  soon  lefl  the  island.  I  since  learned  that  every 
man  of  the  regiment  was  lost  on  their  passage.  I  took  the 
steamboat  for  Boston,  and,  arriving  there,  I  went  into  the  fort, 
and  with  some  other  soldiers  got  intoxicated,  and  hardly  knew 
myself  where  I  did  pass  the  time ;  but  I  stopped  there  three 
days,  and  then  took  the  boat  for  Portland,  and  when  I  arrived 
there,  I  had  not  a  cent  in  my  pocket.  The  4th  of  July,  1852, 1 

*  I  have  had,  since  that  time,  the  pleasure  of  asking  the  gentleman's  pardon. 


128  CAUGHT  ON  THE  ADMIRAL. 

was  living  in  Portland,  and  the  morning  after,  having  nothing  in 
the  house  to  eat,  I  started  out,  and  in  going  up  the  street  I  found 
twenty-five  cents,  and  a  short  distance  further  on  I  picked  up 
twenty-five  cents  more.  With  this  money,  I  went  into  a  pro- 
vision store,  and  bought  me  some  beef,  and  carried  it  home.  I 
obtained  a  chance  to  work  in  the  foundry,  and  while  there,  I 
used  to  drink  hard,  and  neglect  home.  About  this  time  an  in- 
cident happened  that  came  near  depriving  me  of  my  liberty 
that  I  prized  so  dear.  I  was  going  to  the  depot  one  day,  when 
a  soldier  met  me  that  had  escaped  from  the  same  regiment  that  I 
did,  and  he  said,  'Sergeant  Ambler,  your  old  captain  has  just 
gone  aboard  the  Admiral.' 

'  Well,'  I  said, '  I  will  go  down  and  see  him.' 

'If  you  do,  you  will  be  taken,'  said  the  deserter,  'for  he  is 
after ,  and  a  number  of  others  that  have  escaped.' 

'  I  will  risk  his  taking  me,  and  I  am  going  down  to  see  him,' 
I  said,  and  starting  off,  I  went  down  to  the  wharf,  and  went  on 
board  the  steamer;  but  not  seeing  the  captain  on  deck,  I  went 
into  the  cabin,  and  saw  him.  The  moment  he  saw  me,  he  said, 
'  Ah !  Sergeant  Ambler,  how  do  you  do  ? ' 

I  took  off  my  hat,  as  I  was  accustomed  to  do  in  the  army, 
and  saluted  him,  and  said  that  I  was  pretty  well ;  and  looking 
toward  him  at  the  same  time,  I  noticed  his  wife  in  the  state- 
room, and  being  acquainted  with  her,  I  went  in  and  spoke  to 
her;  and  as  I  turned  to  come  out,  I  found  the  door  fast.  I  put 
my  shoulder  against  it  and  broke  it  open,  and  as  I  stepped  out 
into  the  cabin,  the  captain  said,  'You  are  my  prisoner.'  Pay- 
ing no  attention  to  his  words,  I  hurried  out  of  the  cabin  and 
jumped  upon  the  wharf,  and  then  I  turned  to  my  former  cap- 
tain that  had  followed  me,  and  said, '  Good  by,  captain,  I  will 
meet  you  again,'  and  then  turned  to  go  home.  The  excitement 
had  taken  my  strength  almost  away.  Arriving  home,  I  found 
my  wife  almost  crazy,  as  some  one  had  told  her  that  I  was 
taken  a  prisoner,  and  was  carried  off  in  the  Admiral;  but  my 
presence  put  an  end  to  her  grief,  and  I  felt  pleased  in  getting 
away  so  easily. 


FOLLOWING  A   LOOM  TO  BIDDEFORD.  129 


CHAPTER    XX. 

I  DID  not  feel  quite  at  home  in  Portland  after  my  adventure 
with  the  captain,  and  one  day  I  was  going  toward  the  depot, 
when  I  saw  a  loom.  I  was  somewhat  surprised,  as  I  had  not 
seen  one  since  I  left  England,  and  inquired  of  a  man  where  it 
was  going.  He  informed  me  that  it  was  going  to  the  mills  in 
Saco,  Me.  I  went  home  to  my  wife  Avith  an  idea  in  my  head, 
and  telling  her  that  I  meant  to  follow  that  loom,  I  found  her 
perfectly  willing. 

The  next  day  I  settled  in  the  foundry,  and  took  the  cars  for 
Saco,  and  on  arriving  there,  went  down  to  the  mills,  but  they 
would  not  let  me  go  in ;  so  I  went  over  to  Biddeford,  on  the 
other  side  of  the  river,  and  went  into  the  Pepperell  counting- 
room  and  got  a  permit.  I  went  into  the  weave-room,  and  met 
a  fellow-countryman,  and  asked  him  for  work.  '  What  can 
thee  do,  lad  ? '  he  asked  in  the  Yorkshire  tone.  I  replied  in  the 
same  tone,  that  I  wanted  to  learn  to  weave,  and  that  I  used  to 
weave  when  in  England.  He  said  that  he  would  take  me,  and 
the  next  morning  I  went  in  and  commenced  work.  I  was 
placed  in  charge  of  a  man  to  learn  me  to  weave,  but  when  I 
had  worked  two  hours,  he  went  to  the  overseer  and  asked  him 
what  he  meant  in  fooling  him,  for  the  fellow,  he  said,  can  weave 
as  well  as  I  can.  The  overseer  then  came  and  put  me  upon 
two  looms,  and  the  next  day  I  commenced  to  work  upon  four 
and  earned  one  dollar  a  day. 

I  worked  about  three  weeks  and  then  I  went  after  my  wife. 
I  moved  my  furniture  to  Biddeford,  and,  not  getting  a  tenement, 
we  boarded  on  Alfred  street.  I  went  back  into  the  mill,  and 
soon  run  eight  looms  a  day,  having  a  small  girl  to  shuttle  'cops' 
for  me. 

9 


180  THE  RUNAWAY  PIOS. 

I  took  my  wife  into  the  room  where  I  worked  and  learned 
IK-I-  to  weave,  and  we  both  used  to  make  about  sixty  dollars  a 
month.  I  paid  thirteen  dollars  and  fifty  cents  per  month  ibr 
my  board,  and  of  the  balance  of  my  money,  I  am  sorry  to  say, 
the  most  of  it  went  for  liquor.  I  did  not  get  drunk,  but  I  coul  1 
take  quite  a  number  of  glasses  a  day,  which,  at  the  end  of  the 
month,  would  make  quite  a  bill.  I  had  drunk  much  liquor  in 
my  life,  but  the  'Yankee  liquor'  did  not  agree  with  me  as  well 
as  that  which  I  got  in  the  British  dominions,  and  I  was  taken 
sick,  and  went  up  into  the  country,  out  of  the  way  of  liquor, 
and  soon  recovered.  When  I  returned  I  went  into  the  mill 
again,  and  kept  pretty  steady,  and  in  a  mouth  we  had  saved 
up  fifty  dollars.  I  felt  pretty  well  pleased,  and  began  to  think 
about  going  to  house-keeping ;  so  I  moved  to  Sullivan  street, 
and  as  soon  as  I  had  got  settled,  my  wife's  mother  came  from 
New  York  to  visit  us.  I  felt  the  importance  of  making  every 
thing  tell,  and  invested  a  part  of  my  funds  in  a  couple  of  pigs, 
and,  fixing  up  a  place  for  them,  I  put  them  into  their  new  quar- 
ters. I  felt  well  pleased  with  m'y  pigs,  as  they  were  the  first 
animals  I  ever  owned,  and  took  real  comfort  in  looking  at  them 

All  went  smoothly  for  about  a  week,  when  a  small  boy  came 
into  the  mill  and  reported  to  me  that  my  pigs  had  broken  out 
of  barracks,  and  that  my  wife's  mother,  with  an  escort  of  boys, 
were  after  the  deserters,  but  had  not  succeeded  in  arresting 
them.  I  went  to  the  overseer  and  asked  him  to  let  me  go  out 
and  find  my  pigs,  but  he  would  not.  I  remained  in  the  mill  as 
long  as  I  could ;  I  seemed  to  see  rny  pigs  running  before  me  as 
I  went  about  my  work,  and  feeling  that  necessity  demanded  it 
I  went  out  to  find  them.  I  went  to  my  house,  but  my  pigs 
were  not  there.  I  then  started  and  went  back  upon  the  heights 
and  met  my  wife's  mother,  with  her  escort,  returning  in  tri- 
umph with  the  prisoners  in  a  bushel  basket.  I  carried  my  pigs 
home  and  secured  them  in  the  pen,  and  then  returned  to  the 
mill,  informing  the  workmen  that  I  had  been  successful ;  but 
they  made  fun  of  my  pigs,  and  my  wife  laughed  at  me. 


DRINKING   UP   THE  PIGS.  131 

Those  two  pigs  were  the  instruments  in  bringing  considerable 
trouble  upon  me.  My  overseer  proposed  that  I  should  stand 
treat,  as  I  had  found  my  pigs,  and  I  could  not  well  refuse.  We 
went  out. and  I  treated  him,  but  as  soon  as  I  had  the  first  glass 
I  wanted  another,  and  thus  I  went  on  until  I  got  intoxicated. 
I  stopped  out  of  the  mill  a  week  and  spent  all  the  money  I 
had,  and  then  my  glasses  that  I  ran  in  debt  for  were  chalked 
down  upon  the  door.  The  man's  name,  that  kept  the  shop, 
was  Swindle  (a  name  very  appropriate  to  his  business),  and  he 
had  chalked  down  to  me,  besides  what  I  had  spent,  three  dol- 
lars, and  to  get  his  pay,  he  wanted  me  to  sell  my  pigs.  I  took 
my  pigs  one  morning,  after  I  had  got  partially  over  my  spree, 
one  under  each  arm,  and  started  off  to  find  a  customer.  I  found 
one  on  Alfred  Street,  and  disposed  of  both  of  them,  and  meet- 
ing some  persons  that  I  knew,  I  invited  them  into  Swindle's, 
and  before  I  left  we  had  drank  my  pigs  all  up.  I  got  quite  in- 
toxicated while  in  the  shop,  and  had  some  light  skirmishing. 
One  young  man  I  thought  had  insulted  me,  and  I  watched  an 
opportunity  to  chastise  him,  but  did  not  get  a  chance  when  in 
the  shop.  When  he  went  out  I  followed,  and,  overtaking  him 
upon  Adams  Street,  I  commenced  to  box  him,  when,  escaping 
from  me,  he  seized  a  large  stone  and  threw  it  at  me,  but  for- 
tunately it  did  not  strike  me.  He  then  started  on  a  run,  and  I 
followed,  but  not  making  much  progress  in  running  he  escaped. 

I  went  back  to  the  shop,  and  after  getting  a  few  more  glass- 
es, I  started  for  home.  I  succeeded  in  getting  as  far  as  Alfred 
street,  but  even  in  that  short  distance  a  number  of  persons  ran 
against  me,  and  once  I  got  against  the  broadside  of  a  building, 
and  it  seemed  to  whirl  around  so  that  it  was  with  the  utmost 
difficulty  I  made  my  way  along ;  and  the  last  I  remember  for  the 
night  I  was  by  the  side  of  the  road  trying  to  find  my  hat  in 
the  gutter.  Early  in  the  morning  I  came  to  myself,  and  found 
that  I  was  in  the  mud.  I  crawled  out,  looking  rather  sheepish, 
and  made  my  way  toward  home.  I  soon  became  sobered,  and  felt 
very  bad  that  I  had  spent  my  money,  and  thus  made  a  beast  of 


132  OLD  SHILLINGS1  HORSE. 

myself;  and  I  went  back  to  work  with  the  determination  to 
keep  steady,  that  is,  only  to  take  my  regular  dram.  I  thought 
that  I  could  not  get  along  without  that,  as  I  had,  a  great  por- 
tion of  my  life,  been  accustomed  to  it. 

At  this  point  I  had  another  trouble.  My  wife's  mother  had 
been  living  with  us,  and  this  drunk  quite  upset  her,  and  she  de- 
termined not  to  stay  longer  with  such  a  degraded  son-in-law, 
and  asked  me  to  get  a  team  and  take  her  to  the  depot  with  her 
trunks.  So  I  went  on  to  the  street  and  met  Isaac  Clifford,  and 
asked  him  if  he  could  tell  me  where  to  get  a  team  to  take  her 
to  the  depot.  He  said  yes,  you  can  get  Skillings'.  He  has  got 
a  horse  that  wont  let  you  ride  in  the  dust  after  anybody,  for  he 
is  a  regular  black  hawk  ;  can  go  in  2:40;  can  beat  the  engine; 
and  the  old  man  is  a  No.  1  horse-jockey,  and  can  just  drive  him 
too.  So  I  went  and  found  the  old  fellow,  and  told  him  to  call 
at  my  house,  on  Sullivan  street,  next  day,  at  10  o'clock,  to  take 
me  and  mother  with  her  trunk  to  the  station.  He  says, 
'Where  is  your  house?'  I  told  him,  it  was  the  next  house  to 
Judge  Berry's.  'All  right,'  says  Skillings,  'I'll  be  on  hand.' 

Next  day  at  the  time  named  I  heard  a  knock  at  my  door,  and 
went  to  the  door  to  see  who  was  there,  and  as  I  opened  the 
door  I  saw  Skillings  with  his  beautiful  steed  hitched  into  a  reg- 
ular go-cart.  *  Good  morning,'  said  he.  '  Good  morning,'  says 
I.  'And  is  that  your  team?'  'Yes,'  said  he,  'I  guess  it  is  no 
other  one's.'  Well,  the  horse  looked  to  me  like  the  old  pewter- 
cased  watch  that  John  Gould  once  sold  to  me,  for  all  the  watch- 
makers in  Biddeford  could  not  wind  it  up  into  going  order.  I 
said, '  Skillings,  is  that  the  horse  that  Clifford  says  can  beat  a 
flash  of  lightning  his  whole  length  on  trotting  a  mile?'  'It  is 
true,  as  I  am  a  misbegotten  son  of  poverty,'  said  the  old  man. 
Didn't  I  laugh.  He  looked  to  me  as  if  he  was  a  number  of  de- 
grees below  any  horse  flesh  I  had  yet  seen ;  such  a  poor  jackass- 
looking  skeleton  of  a  horse  I  never  saw  before.  He  looked  as 
if  he  had  just  been  marched  from  the  camp  of  starvation,  and 
had  been  fed  on  water  gruel  after  being  all  night  in  a  barrel  of 


THE  RIDE  TO   THE  DEPOT.  133 

molasses  and  water.  His  hair  was  looking  a  thousand  ways  for 
Sunday, — long-necked,  cat-hammed,  heavy-headed,  flat-eared, 
crooked-shanked,  narrow-chested,  swelled-hocked,  and  as  solemn 
as  if  he  had  been  contemplating  his  latter  end  for  the  last  twen- 
ty years.  And  his  tail, — oh  what  a  tail !  It  looked  as  if  it  had 
been  cut  off  and  drove  in,  being  pretty  well  battered  and  bushed 
up  in  the  operation ;  or,  as  Mark  Twain  says, '  he  had  set  down 
on  it  too  hard.'  Well,  it  is  no  use,  I  won't  attempt  any  further 
delineation  of  that  wonderful  horse,  and  the  cart  was  altogeth- 
er indescribable,  especially  the  jolting  part  of  it;  but  on  our 
way  to  the  depot  I  could  say,  without  exaggeration,  that  it  was 
better  felt  than  expressed. 

What  a  jolting,  and  creaking,  and  splashing,  and  din ; 
The  whip  how  it  cracks,  and  the  wheels  how  they  spin; 
How  the  mud  right  and  left  o'er  the  hedges  is  hurled, 
Old  Skillings  at  length  makes  a  noise  in  the  world. 

And  in  this  way  I,  poor  man,  had  to  accompany  my  poor 
mother  to  the  train,  which  was  to  bear  her  away ;  and  all  this 
for  selling  my  pigs  and  getting  drunk  on  the  proceeds.  I  could 
say, '  O  Poverty,  where  are  thy  charms  that  sages  have  seen  in 
thy  face?' 

I  had  been  at  work  pretty  steadily  for  three  months,  when 
my  overseer  asked  me  one  day  if  I  should  not  like  to  go  out 
and  take  a  drop.  As  I  could  never  resist  an  invitation,  I  went 
out  with  him  and  his  brother  into  a  liquor  shop,  where  the  over- 
seer treated  us,  and  I  followed.  We  drank  quite  a  number  of 
glasses,  and,  going  over  into  Saco,  we  drank  more  there  ;  and, 
to  finish  our  day's  recreation,  the  overseer  proposed  that  we 
should  go  up  by  the  railroad  bridge,  and  have  a  swing.  We 
went  up  by  the  side  of  the  river,  and  while  there,  the  overseer 
laid  down  upon  the  bank,  and  fell  asleep.  His  brother  proposed, 
as  he  had  only  treated  once,  to  rob  him,  and  to  treat  ourselves, 
to  which  I  readly  assented.  We  searched  his  pockets,  but  found 
no  money  there ;  but  I  knew  that  he  had  money  about  him, 
and  I  was  not  disheartened  yet,  and  pulling  off  his  boots,  I 


134  BOBBING   T1JE  OVERSEEE. 

found  in  his  stockings  forty-one  dollars.  When  his  brother  saw 
it,  he  said,  *  Now  we  will  have  a  spree,  let  us  go  over  to  Saco 
again.'  '  I  am  ready,'  I  said,  and,  starting  off,  we  went  over, 
leaving  the  overseer  asleep  on  the  ground. 

When  we  arrived  at  Saco  we  went  into  a  shop,  and  called 
for  some  liquor  and  drank  it,  and  I  paid  for  it  with  my  own 
money,  as  I  had  some  left.  My  companion  wanted  me  to  break 
into  the  money,  but  as  I  had  some  left  of  my  own,  I  would  not. 
We  soon  went  over  to  Biddeford,  and  I  gave  the  money  to  my 
wife,  telling  her  at  the  same  time  where  I  obtained  it.  The 
next  morning,  when  I  went  into  the  mill,  the  overseer,  the  mo- 
ment he  saw  me,  became  very  much  excited,  and  with  harsh 
language  asked  me  where  his  money  was.  'I  have  not  your 
money,'  I  replied.  He  soon  left  me,  but  ray  wife  came  in  soon, 
and,  going  over  where  he  was,  gave  him  the  money,  and  told  him 
the  circumstances  about  it.  He  felt  so  well  pleased  that  he  went 
out  and  brought  in  a  bottle  of  brandy  and  treated  us,  unknown 
to  my  wife. 

I  was  in  the  habit  of  going  with  a  scout  into  the  woods  every 
Sunday  to  learn  them  the  military  drill,  and  to  go  through  the 
sword  exercise,  and  thus  pass  God's  day.  We  often  ended  in 
a  regular  drunken  skirmish,  and  returned  home  cairying  the 
marks  of  war  upon  us. 


GETTING  BETTER  LIQUOR.  135 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

As  I  went  to  and  from  my  work,  I  noticed  a  pretty  polite 
little  fellow  that  kept  a  saloon  in  Dudley's  block.  When  I  met 
him  he  would  most  of  the  time  have  a  covered  basket,  and 
many  were  the  conjectures  that  were  made  in  regard  to  what 
he  carried  in  that  basket.  I  thought  one  day  that  I  would  go 
into  his  shop  and  see  if  he  kept  anything  to  drink.  I  therefore 
went  in  and  asked  him  for  a  glass  of  ale,  which  he  gave  me, 
and  I  thought  that  it  tasted  much  better  than  that  which  I  ob- 
tained at  other  places.  I  followed  getting  my  beer  regularly 
here  for  some  time,  and  was  treated  so  politely  by  the  keeper 
of  the  shop  that  I  could  not  help  thinking  how  foolish  I  had 
been  in  getting  my  liquor  at  the  low  holes,  as  I  thought  they 
were,  that  I  had  been  accustomed  to.  In  a  room  in  the  back 
part  of  the  shop  was  a  domino-table,  around  which  quite  a 
number  of  young  men  would  be  seated  every  night.  I  used  to 
be  called  quite  a  skillful  player  when  I  was  in  the  army,  and 
the  table  attracted  my  attention,  and  I  soon  commenced  to 
play  there,  and  used  to  win  tickets  which  I  would  spend  for 
beer.  One  evening,  while  playing  there,  I  noticed  a  teamster 
coming  into  the  shop,  and  he  made  some  motions,  upon  which 
the  keeper  reached  under  the  counter  (I  had  my  eye  upon  him), 
and  taking  a  cover  from  a  butter-firkin,  pulled  out  a  decanter, 
out  of  which  he  turned  a  glass  of  liquor  and  handed  to  the 
teamster,  who  drank  it  down  in  a  hurry.  I  soon  finished  the 
game  and  arose  and  asked  the  keeper  for  a  glass  of  that  article 
that  he  kept  under  the  counter. 

*  Won't  you  say  anything  about  it  ? '  he  asked. 

'Of  course  not,'  I  replied. 


THE  CUSTARD  MAN, 

The  keeper  then  turned  out  a  stiff  glass,  and  telling  me  to 
drink  quick,  I  eagerly  seized  it,  and  drank  it  instantly.  I  never 
drank  such  liquor  before ;  I  thought  that  it  would  truly  burn 
me  up,  and  in  ray  eagerness  to  get  some  water,  I  kicked  over 
the  domino-table  and  made  considerable  confusion  before  I 
succeeded. 

'What  kind  of  liquor  do  you  call  that?'  I  asked. 

*  Why,  that  is  the  fourth-proof  brandy,  and  the  very  best 
that  can  be  obtained,'  he  replied. 

*  We  never  have  such  liquor  as  that  in  the  old  country,'  I 
said. 

'Ah!  you  get  cheated  there;  they  don't  care  what  they  sell 
to  a  man,  and  they  probably  water  it  considerably  before  sell- 
ing, but  we  don't  treat  our  customers  so.' 

T  felt  quite  satisfied  with  the  reasons  that  he  had  given  me, 
and  thought  that  I  had  found  a  place  where  I  could  get  good 
liquor. 

There  was  one  young  man  who  visited  that  place,  a  free- 
hearted and  pleasant  fellow,  that  did  not  spend  his  tickets  for 
liquor  (that  he  won  by  playing  dominos),  but  for  custards. 
The  keeper  of  the  saloon,  when  settlement  was  near  in  the 
ship-yard,  would  bake  up  some  two  or  three  dozens  of  custards 
expressly  for  this  young  man,  who  always  came  in  as  soon  as 
settlement,  and  commence  at  one  end  of  the  custard  board  and 
'  sweep  all  before  him.'  And  it  was  a  common  saying  among 
the  frequenters  of  the  saloon,  when  near  settlement,  to  say  that 
it  was  about '  custard  time.'  I  continued  to  get  my  liquor  at 
this  place  on  '  tick,'  which  I  would  square  up  every  settlement, 
paying  from  five  to  ten  dollars  for  liquor  per  month. 

One  night,  while  in  this  saloon,  I  took  quite  a  number  of 
glasses,  and  when  he  closed  his  shop  I  heard  the  sound  of  a 
fiddle  behind  it  in  a  small  house.  Having  some  pork  and  beans 
and  herring  for  my  Sunday  dinner,  as  this  was  Saturday  night, 
I  buried  them  in  the  snow,  and  then  went  up  to  the  house  and 
went  in.  I  was  acquainted  with  a  number,  and  joined  in  the 


GETTING  INTO  A   FIGHT.  137 

dance  with  them.  After  having  danced  a  short  time,  a  woman 
asked  me  if  I  was  not  going  to  treat,  upon  which  I  ordered  a 
quart,  which  was  brought  and  drank  ;  and  after  drinking  I  said 
something  that  enraged  some  of  them,  and  they  seized  me  to 
put  me  out  of  the  house.  I  knocked  down  quite  a  number, 
but  they  overpowered  me  and  put  me  out,  minus  my  hat  and 
part  of  my  coat.  I  felt  that  I  was  an  injured  man,  and  I  start- 
ed upon  a  run  for  the  watchman  at  the  covered  bridge,  but  as 
I  went  running  toward  him  bare-headed,  without  my  hat,  he 
took  to  his  heels  and  ran  with  all  his  might,  and  finding  that  I 
could  get  no  help,  I  determined  to  venture  into  the  house  again. 
I  went  in  and  found  that  they  had  broken  the  fiddle  and  were 
abusing  the  fiddler.  I  took  his  part,  but  being  the  weaker 
party,  we  were  roughly  handled,  and  put  out  of  the  house  into 
the  street.  I  went  and  found  my  provisions  that  I  had  secreted 
in  the. snow,  and,  having  found  my  hat,  I  started  Jo  ward  home 
with  my  companion,  who  made  a  grab  at  my  herrings,  taking  a 
number  of  them.  I  told  him  that  if  he  was  not  peaceable  that 
I  should  box  him ;  but  he  paid  no  attention  to  it,  but  made  an- 
other levy  upon  my  herrings.  This  somewhat  aroused  me, 
when  I  began  to  box  him,  giving  him  a  pretty  sevei'e  whipping, 
but  lost  some  of  my  provisions.  I  went  home  in  a  somewhat 
dilapidated  condition,  and  I  have  found  ever  since,  that  'those 
that  dance  must  pay  the  fiddler.'  One  night  I  was  in  the  'Yan- 
kee Saloon,'  as  the  English  termed  it ;  and  as  he  did  not  have 
much  liquor,  I  went  into  an  Irish  house,  and  there  I  met  an 
Englishman,  and  we  drank  together,  and  in  the  course  of  the 
evening  we  got  to  quarrelling  and  be  challenged  me  to  fight 
him.  At  that  time  I  was  ready  for  a  challenge,  and  we  went 
out  in  the  street ;  the  snow  was  some  two  feet  deep,  and  we 
fought  some  two  hours.  We  both  found  ourselves  in  a  sorry 
plight  at  the  close  of  our  long-contested  conflict.  I  remember 
going  home  feeling  rather  ashamed.  I  tried  to  keep  steady 
again,  and  succeeded  in  doing  so  about  one  month,  and  saved 
up  a  little  money,  and  with  it  I  bought  me  a  watch,  the  first 


138  HUNTING  FOR  ANOTHER   CHANCE. 

one  I  ever  owned.  Soon  after  I  bought  my  watch,  I  thought  I 
would  show  myself  in  the  saloon  kept  by  the  polite  fellow  in 
Dudley's  block.  I  had  not  been  in  there  for  some  time  before, 
and  when  I  entered  the  keeper  remarked,  *  What  a  stranger 
you  are ! '  '  Yes,  I  am  somewhat  a  stranger,'  I  replied.  *  Come 
and  take  a  glass,  will  you?'  he  asked.  'I  never  refuse,'  I  replied, 
going  up  to  the  counter  and  drinking  the  liquor  that  he  set  be- 
fore me. 

I  drank  quite  a  number  of  glasses  that  evening,  and  traded 
watches  a  number  of  times,  and  made  something  in  trading.  I 
followed  up  trading  watches,  and  made  some  forty  dollars, 
which  I  soon  spent  on  a  spree,  and  sold  the  watch  that  I  had 
left  for  five  dollars,  which  I  spent  for  drink.  After  I  recovered 
from  my  spree,  I  again  said  that  I  would  keep  steady,  and  I 
kept  so  for  some  six  weeks,  and  then  one  morning  I  was  told 
that  I  was  a  father;  and  as  it  was  the  custom  in  the  old  coun- 
try to  take  a  drop,  and  as  I  felt  happy,  I  went  to  the  saloon, 
and  obtained  a  glass,  and  then  another,  and  became  quite  intox- 
icated, and  remained  so  for  some  three  weeks.  When  I  came 
to  myself,  I  told  my  wife  that  it  would  not  answer  for  me  to 
stop  in  Biddeford,  and  asked  her  one  night  to  make  me  up  a 
bundle  of  clothes,  and  I  would  leave  Bid.leford,  and  try  and  find 
some  place  where  I  could  work  without  getting  drunk.  My 
wife  picked  up  my  things,  and  one  morning,  bidding  her  good- 
by,  I  started  off.  I  went  up  on  the  heights,  and  then  turned 
around  and  looked  back  to  the  house.  I  felt  bad  to  leave  my 
wife,  and  thought  to  myself  that  if  liquor  was  out  of  the  way, 
how  happy  I  could  live,  and  what  comfort  I  could  take  in  life. 
I  thought  some  of  returning,  'but  it's  no  use,'  I  said  to  myself, 
'if  I  stop  here.,  I  shall  die;'  and,  turning  my  back  toward  my 
home,  I  walked  away.  I  continued  my  way  until  I  came  oppo- 
site the  rum-shop  kept  by  Swindle,  and  I  thought  that  as  I  was 
about  leaving  town  I  would  go  In  and  bid  my  friend  goo:l-by. 
I  entered  his  shop  and  told  him  where  I  was  going. 

'Well,  take  a  glass  before  you  go,'  he  said,  taking  down  a  de- 


WANTING  TO  GO   UP.  139 

canter.  'I  don't  care  if  I  do,'  I  replied;  and  drinking  it  down, 
I  was  upon  the  point  of  leaving,  when  an  acquaintance  of  mine 
proffered  me  another  glass,  which  I  drank.  I  did  not  intend  to 
get  intoxicated,  but  was  bent  upon  getting  out  of  Biddeford.  I 
therefore  bade  the  keeper  good  day,  and  went  up  to  the  depot, 
and  went  into  the  ticket  office,  and  producing  a  two  dollar  bill, 
I  asked  the  man  to  give  me  a  ticket  to  carry  me  as  far  as  they 
could  for  the  money.  '  Do  you  wish  to  go  down  ? '  he  asked. 
No,  sir,'  I  replied, '  I  have  been  going  down  for  some  time,  and 
I  want  to  go  up  now.'  He  gave  me  a  ticket,  with  some  change 
for  Newburyport.  I  waited  some  time  for  the  cars,  and  when 
they  came  I  went  aboard,  and  got  out  at  Newburyport.  I  was 
in  rather  a  poor  condition ;  I  looked  as  if  I  had  been  dropped 
from  the  bag  that  is  generally  carried  on  behind  a  tin-man's 
cart. 

I  went  down  to  the  mills,  and  succeeded  in  getting  a  situa- 
tion in  the  Ocean  Mills,  and  my  employer  obtained  a  boarding- 
place  for  me.  I  went  to  work  the  next  morning,  and  kept  pret- 
ty steady  for  about  a  month.  At  the  end  of  the  month  I  wrote 
to  my  wife  (I  had  learned  to  write,  so  that  with  some  labor  she 
could  decipher  it),  and  sent  her  the  balance  of  the  money  that 
I  had  left  after  paying  my  board.  I  owed  a  small  grocery  bill 
in  Biddeford,  and  as  my  wife  was  about  to  move,  the  furniture 
was  attached ;  but  my  wife's  mother  paid  the  bill,  and  she  moved 
to  Newburyport,  where  I  was.  I  met  her  at  the  depot,  and  as 
I  had  a -tenement  ready  to  move  into,  we  soon  got  settled  in  our 
new  quarters,  and  my  wife  felt  well  pleased  with  the  change.  I 
told  her  that  I  had  not  drank  since  I  left  Biddeford.  I  kept 
steady  for  a  short  time  after  my  wife  and  her  mother  came ;  but 
one  evening,  as  I  was  in  the  store  where  I  obtained  my  pro- 
visions, I  saw  the  keeper  hand  the  man  a  small  flask,  and  imme- 
diately my  old  appetite  was  aroused,  and  I  went  home  and  pro- 
cured a  small  bottle,  and,  returning  to  the  store,  I  had  it  filled 
with  brandy,  and  put  down  in  my  store-book  as  groceries.  I 
h.-id  gone  but  a  short  distance  before  I  drank  the  whole  of  it. 


140  WIFE  MISTRUSTED  ME. 

I  went  to  the  house  and  went  to  bed,  without  my  wife's  know- 
ing that  I  had  been  drinking.  The  bottle  I  would  get  filled 
regularly  every  other  night ;  but  my  wife  soon  began  to  mis- 
trust me,  and  when  the  month  was  out,  and  she  saw  the  bill 
that  we  owed  for  groceries,  she  was  astonished.  But  I  told  her 
that  grocery  bills  would  tell  up  fast,  and  that  I  expected  our 
bill  would  be  somewhere  about  that  amount.  But  she  was  not 
satisfied,  and  said  that  if  I  would  leave  off  trading  at  that  place, 
she  would  go  into  the  mill  to  work.  I  left  that  place,  and  found 
another,  and  my  wife  went  to  work,  leaving  the  child  to  the 
care  of  her  mother.  I  am  surprised,  as  I  look  back  upon  my 
past  career,  to  see  what  a  life  I  led ;  but  I  know  that  the  bad, 
as  well  as  the  good,  must  go  together  in  making  up  these  pages, 
and  that  I  should  fail  to  give  my  life,  unless  I  told  the  scenes 
that  I  have  passed  through,  although  I  often  blush  to  think  of 
them. 


A  SET-TO   WITH  STICKS.  141 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

AT  the  place  where  I  now  obtained  my  groceries,  I  found  that 
there  was  more  liquor  sold  than  at  the  old  place,  and  in  a  short 
time  I  drank  as  hard  as  ever.  I  made  the  acquaintance  of  some 
Englishmen  who  were  great  drinkers,  and  we  used  to  have  some 
merry  times  together,  and  as  I  was  a  pretty  good  singer,  these 
fellows  would  get  me  to  go  out  evenings  and  sing,  and  then 
treat  me.  We  used  to  frequent  a  certain  rum-shop,  and  play 
cards  until  morning,  and  then  I  would  go  home  and  get  a  little 
sleep,  and  then  go  to  my  work  at  the  usual  time;  this  I  fol- 
lowed up  for  some  weeks.  The  Sabbath  day  I  would  join  a 
scout  of  fellows  who  went  off  to  play  cards.  I  would  not  play, 
put  would  keep  watch  while  the  others  did. 

One  Sunday  I  went  down  to  a  liquor  shop,  and  the  keeper 
told  me  that  there  was  a  smart  fencer  in  the  place,  and  that  he 
had  challenged  me  to  fight  with  the  sticks,  saying  that  the  one 
who  received  the  first  blow  should  pay  for  a  pint  of  gin.  I  ac- 
cepted the  challenge,  and  the  man  was  brought  in,  and  I  was 
introduced  to  him.  We  went  into  a  large  cellar,  and  finding  a 
couple  of  broom  handles,  we  commenced  in  good  earnest.  I  soon 
found  that  I  had  a  hard  one  to  deal  with,  and  I  brought  out  all 
the  skill  that  I  was  master  of;  and,  at  last,  by  a  dexterous  move- 
ment, I  struck  his  arm,  knocking  the  stick  instantly  from  his 
hand.  The  keeper  of  this  shop  was  out  of  liquor,  but  he  said 
that  he  could  get  some  at  the  shop  that  supplied  him ;  and,  tak- 
ing a  jug,  he  started  off,  and  soon  returned  with  some  gin,  as 
he  said,  and  tasting  of  it  pronounced  it  good  liquor.  Turning 
out  three  glasses,  he  mixed  them  up,  and  then  passed  them  to 


142  DRINKING  THE  FLUID. 

us,  and  we  all  three  drank.     I  thought  that  the  first  glass  that 
I  drank  at  the  '  Yankee  Saloon '  at  Biddeford  was  strong,  but 
it  was  nothing  compared  with  this.     It  was  something  like  tak- 
ing down  live  coals,  and  I  fairly  yelled  with  pain,  while  the 
other  two  rolled  upon  the  floor.     I  said  to  the  keeper  that  it 
was  the  hottest  stuff  that  I  ever  took  into  my  throat.    I  hardly 
knew  what  to  do ;  the  keeper  took  to  his  bed,  and  as  I  could 
not  rest,  I  went  out  of  the  shop  toward  home.    As  I  was  going 
along  on  the  street,  I  thought  I  should  burn  up.    I  told  my  wife 
that  I  had  drank  some  gin  down  to  Fowles',  and  that  I  thought 
he  had  made  a  mistake,  and  given  me  fluid.     I  could  not  rest 
at  home,  and  I  therefore  went  down  to  the  rum-shop  again,  and 
found  him  in  as  bad,  if  not  in  a  worse  condition  than  I  was. 
We  sent  to  the  place  where  the  gin  came  from,  and  found  out 
that  the  man  had  made  a  mistake,  and  sent  us  fluid.     I  took  an 
oath  that  if  I  got  out  of  this  scrape,  I  would  never  drink  again. 
I  went  to  work,  and  kept  steady  for  a  short  time,  and  at  settle- 
ment, when  I  went  to  pay  my  bill  at  the  grocery  store,  the 
keeper  wanted  to  know  what  the  trouble  was,  that  my  bill  was 
so  small.     I  told  him  that  I  was  going  to  be  a  temperate  man. 
The  next  day  I  went  after  some  groceries,  and  as  he  had  just 
taken  in  a  fresh  supply  of  liquor,  the  keeper  said,  '  Now,  Am- 
bler, we  have  got  some  of  the  best  of  English  cogniac,  and  I 
want  you  to  come  in  and  take  a  glass.'     He  knew  that  if  he 
could  get  me  to  take  one  glass,  that  I  should  want  another.     I 
looked  at  the  door  where  he  used  to  chalk  the  glasses  down 
against  me,  the  last  time  that  I  was  in  there;  the  two  panels  of 
the  door  were  covered  with  chalk-marks,  but  now  they  were  all 
rubbed  out;  they  were  all  settled.    I  was  pondering  what  to 
do,  when  the  voice  of  the  keeper  aroused  me.    '  Come,'  he  said, 
'I'm  bound  to  treat  you  at  my  expense.'     I  drank  the  liquor, 
and  soon  the  chalk-marks  began  to  make  their  appearance  upon 
the  door  again.     I  went  that  night  with  my  old  associates,  and 
we  had  a  drinking  party. 
The  next  day  I  staid  out  of  the  mill,  and,  in  company  with 


GETTING  INTO  ANOTHER  MUSS.  143 

six  others,  went  on  a  *  spree.'  At  night  we  went  into  an  Eng- 
lishman's house,  and  drank  and  sung,  and  at  last  got  to  fight- 
ing and  broke  the  furniture  and  did  some  other  damage  before 
we  left.  I  started  to  go  home,  and  it  was  raining  very  hard, 
and  as  I  went  past  a  saloon  I  heard  a  cry  for  help.  1  rushed 
in  and  saw  a  colored  man  with  a  wound  on  his  head,  occasioned 
by  a  drunken  sailor's  throwing  an  oyster-plate  at  him.  When 
1  entered,  the  colored  man  was  in  the  act  of  seizing  the  sailor, 
but  quite  a  number  of  his  companions  interposed.  I  always 
joined  the  weakest  party,  and  I  therefore  immediately  seized 
the  sailor  and  sung  out  for  the  police,  who  soon  came  in ;  and  I 
helped  him  cany  the  drunken  sailor  to  the  watch-house.  His 
companions  started  after  me,  being  angry,  as  soon  as  the  police 
left,  and  I  ran  down  into  a  lumber-yard,  near  the  water.  They 
searched  some  time  for  me,  and  one  man  took  hold  of  the  stick 
of  lumber  that  I  was  behind,  but  as  it  was  quite  dark,  he  did 
not  see  me.  They  soon  left,  and  I  came  out  of  my  hiding-place, 
feeling  very  uncomfortable,  as  I  was  wet  through.  As  I  went 
toward  home,  I  passed  by  the  house  where  my  grocery  man 
lived,  and,  as  I  was  wet  through,  I  thought  I  would  get  a  glass 
of  gin,  and,  going  up  the  steps  before  the  door,  I  stepped  upon 
a  verandah,  and,  as  I  could  hardly  see,  I  walked  oif  and  fell 
some  twelve  feet  and  struck  upon  my  head  upon  the  ground. 
I  was  senseless  for  some  time,  and  when  I  came  to  myself  the 
rain  was  beating  in  my  face.  I  got  up,  but  I  felt  dreadfully. 
I  was  wounded  badly,  I  knew,  for  I  could  hardly  walk.  I  did 
not  know  where  I  was,  but  going  up  to  a  house,  I  asked  wrhere 
Russia  street  was.  I  was  told  that  it  was  the  next  street  above. 
I  went  to  the  next  street,  and  entering  it,  I  came  to  a  house 
that  looked  like  the  one  that  I  lived  in,  and  went  up  and 
knocked.  My  wife  came  to  the  door,  but  as  the  wind  blew, 
she  shaded  the  lamp  so  that  I  could  not  see  her  face,  and  I 
asked,  'Does  Mr.  Ambler  live  here?'  She  was  frightened, 
thinking  that  I  was  indeed  out  of  my  head,  and  when  I  went 
in  she  almost  fainted,  as  my  face  was  bruised  badly.  She 


144  WIFE'S  PATIENCE  EXHAUSTED. 

thought  .it  first  that  it  was  done  in  a  drunken  row,  but  I  told 
her  that  I  had  had  a  fall  that  occasioned  it.  In  a  few  days  I 
had  recovered  so  that  I  was  enabled  to  go  to  work. 

I  told  ray  wife,  soon  after,  that  I  wanted  to  move,  as  I  never 
had  any  luck  in  the  house.  I  found  my  wife  liked  the  proposal, 
and  I  immediately  went  before  breakfast  and  obtained  a  tene- 
ment, and,  borrowing  a  wheelbarrow,  I  moved  all  our  things  to 
my  new  quarters  upon  it,  as  the  tenement  was  but  a  short  dis- 
tance off.  I  went  to  work  again  in  the  mill,  and  kept  pretty 
steady  at  my  work,  only  taking  my  glass  regularly  every  morn- 
ing; and  strange  to  say,  these  regular  glasses  did  not  make  me 
have  an  appetite  for  more,  as  it  did  if  I  took  a  glass  at  other 
times.  My  grocery  bill  was  so  large  at  the  end  of  the  month 
that  we  could  make  just  money  enough  to  pay  it. 

One  afternoon,  as  I  was  out  of  the  mill,  I  went  into  the  store 
and  got  some  liquor.  It  made  my  head  dizzy,  and  I  went  home 
and  laid  down  upon  the  bed.  My  wife,  knowing  what  the 
ti'ouble  was,  and  thinking  it  was  high  time  to  stop  my  drinking, 
went  down  to  the  grocery  store  and  told  the  keeper  that  if  he 
sold  me  another  glass  of  liquor  she  would  inform  against  him. 
She  returned  to  the  house,  and  soon  after  I  arose,  feeling  rather 
disagreeably,  and  took  a  small  flask  and  went  down  to  the  store 
and  asked  the  keeper  to  fill  it. 

'I  can't  sell  you  any  more  liquor,'  he  said,  'for  your  wife  has 
been  here  and  forbidden  it.' 

I  was  enraged  upon  hearing  this,  and  swore  that  I  was  under 
no  woman's  thumb,  and  that  I  would  learn  her  better  than  to 
meddle  with  my  business.  '  I'll  tell  you  what  I  can  do,'  said 
the  keeper;  'she  forbade  my  selling  you  a  glass  of  liquor;  I 
will  sell  you  a  pint,  and  can  charge  it  upon  the  store-book  as 
pork,  and  your  wife  need  not  know  anything  about  it.'  As 
pork  was  ninepence  per  pound,  my  pint  of  brandy  would  be 
equal  to  two  pounds  of  pork.  I  thought  it  was  an  excellent 
way  to  get  over  the  difficulty;  but  I  am  sure  I  should  never 
have  thought  of  this  way  if  the  rumseller  had  not  proposed  it. 


LONGING   TO  BREAK  MY  FETTERS.  145 

It  probably  was  not  a  new  method  to  him.  I  obtained  the 
brandy,  and  upon  my  book  it  was  put  down,  'two  pounds  of 
pork,  at  twelve  and  a  half  cents  per  pound,  twenty-five  cents.' 
I  went  home,  feeling  somewhat  displeased  with  my  wife;  but 
as  I  had  a  pint  of  liquor  with  me,  I  came  to  the  conclusion  not 
to  say  as  much  as  I  intended  to  in  the  outset.  I  said,  '  Well, 
wife,  things  have  come  to  a  pretty  pass,  that  I  am  not  allowed 
to  take  a  glass  of  liquor.' 

'I  have  stood  your  drinking  as  long  as  I  intend  to;  you  have 
made  our  home  unhappy  long  enough,  and  now  I  intend  to  see 
if  I  can't  stop  it,'  she  said.  We  had  quite  a  talk,  and  I  thought 
as  soon  as  I  drank  the  pint  of  liquor  that  I  had  in  my  pocket, 
I  would  not  drink  any  more.  I  soon  left  the  room  and  went 
into  the  cellar  and  drank  my  liquor;  and  then,  hiding  the  bot- 
tle, I  went  up-stairs,  ami  told  my  wife  that  I  should  not  go  out 
that  evening.  My  wife  felt  well-pleased  with  my  determination, 
and  I  felt  well  repaid  in  staying  at  home.  It  was  the  first 
evening  that  I  had  spent  at  home  for  some  time ;  and,  although 
I  felt  happy,  yet  I  missed  my  companions,  and  I  have  no  doubt 
but  that  I  was  missed  in  the  den  where  I  was  accustomed  to 
spend  my  leisure  time.  I  had  no  idea  that  my  habits  had  such 
a  hold  upon  me,  and  it  was  indeed  not  without  a  struggle  that 
I  stopped  at  home  that  evening.  Oh!  how  I  wished  that  I 
could  break  the  chain  that  bound  me,  for  I  felt  that  I  was  in 
bondage;  but  I  could  not  subdue  the  appetite  that  was  leading 
me,  step  by  step,  down  to  a  drunkard's  grave.  'Where  will 
this  end?'  I  asked  myself,  as  I  looked  back  upon  the  downward 
road  that  I  had  traveled.  I  did  not  ask  the  help  of  God.  I 
did  not  come  to  Him  who  is  able  to  save  the  poor  drunkard, 
and  ask  for  that  grace  that  He  alone  can  give ;  but  I  made  res- 

O  O  ' 

olutions  in  my  own  strength,  and  endeavored,  without  Divine 
assistance,  to  brenk  off  my  evil  habits. 

I  kept  pretty  steady  at  my  work  a  short  time ;  but,  as  it  was 
coming  cold  weather,  the  evenings  grew  longer,  and  as  I  did 
not  like  to  spend  long  evenings  at  home,  I  sought  my  old  com- 
10 


14fi  CROCKERY  GOING  FOR  RUM. 

pnnions  in  the  rum-shops.  I  had  only  got  pork  twice  at  my 
grocer's;  but  my  bill  was  so  large  that  I  could  not  pay  it  at 
the  end  of  the  month,  and  as  it  was  now  settlement,  the  keeper 
of  the  store  said  he  wanted  me  to  square  up,  as  he  intended  to 
close  up  business.  I  told  him  that  I  did  not  have  money  enough 
to  settle  my  rum  and  grocery  bill,  but  that  I  would  pay  for  my 
groceries,  and  that  he  might  take  a  dining-set  that  I  had  to 
his  store,  and  sell  it  and  take  his  pay.  Soon  after  I  left  my 
crockery  ware  at  the  shop  he  failed,  and,  meeting  me  one  day 
on  the  street,  he  said : 

'Ambler,  you  owe  me  five  dollars,  and  I  want  it.' 
'  But,'  said  I, '  the  set  of  ware  will  more  than  pay  your  bill.' 
'I  did  not  realize  enough  out  of  it  to  pay  my  bill  by  five 
dollars,'  he  said. 

I  knew  that  the  rumseller  was  hard  upon  me,  as  my  ware 
was  worth  five  dollars  more  than  his  bill,  but  I  told  him  that  I 
would  pay  him  as  soon  as  I  obtained  some  money. 

As  the  store  where  I  obtained  my  groceries  was  closed  up,  I 
asked  my  overseer  to  direct  me  to  one  where  no  liquor  was 
kept.  He  directed  me  to  a  respectable  place,  where  I  could 

not  obtain  liquor.    I  was  invited  one  evening  doAvn  to  F 's. 

who  kept  a  liquor  hole,  and  as  I  neared  the  place  I  heard  the 
sound  of  a  fiddle,  and  I  thought  that  the  company  were  having 
quite  a  merry  time.  I  went  in  and  the  keeper  treated  me  to  a 
drink,  and  I  soon  had  taken  quite  a  number  of  glasses,  and  felt 
pretty  well.  There  was  a  large,  stout-built  man  there,  bragging 
of  his  exploits ;  we  did  not  agree  very  well,  and  we  soon  got  to 
fighting,  and  made  such  a  disturbance  that  the  others  there 
called  for  the  police,  and  I  had  to  take  my  leave,  or  get  into 
the  watch-house.  I  chose  the  former,  and  in  going  down  the 
stairs  I  was  seized,  but  breaking  away,  I  started  on  a  run  for 
home,  which  I  soon  reached.  I  fastened  my  door,  expecting 
that  some  one  would  be  after  me,  as  I  knew  that  my  opponent 
had  got  a  pretty  severe  whipping;  but  no  one  came,  and  I  went 
to  bed.  I  used  to  have  many  drunken  sprees  with  F ,  and 


WIFE  LEAVING  ME.  147 

many  were  the  quarrels  that  I  have  had  in  his  rum-shop ;  but  I 
will  forbear  relating  many  incidents  of  my  life,  that  happened 
about  this  time,  as  I  am  well  aware  that  the  pages  of  this  work 
will  be  extended  to  a  greater  length  than  will  be  profitable  or 
edifying  to  the  reader. 

After  working  in  the  Ocean  Mill  a  number  of  months,  I  left 
and  got  work  in  another  mill,  and  also  moved  about  the  same 
time  into  a  room  that  I  obtained  about  one  mile  from  my  work. 
Soon  after  I  moved,  I  went  on  a  *  spree '  with  a  number  of  other 
men ;  one  of  them,  I  remember,  was  as  good  and  as  free-hearted 
a  fellow  as  I  ever  saw,  and  would  always  help  me  when  I  got 
into  difficulty ;  and  although  he  led  a  miserable  life,  he  gave  me 
good  advice,  which,  if  I  had  followed,  would  have  saved  me 
from  many  troubles  and  difficulties  that  I  have  undergone.  We 
all  agreed  to  leave  the  place,  and  go  to  Biddeford. 

When  I  went  home,  I  told  my  wife  that  I  intended  to  leave ; 
and  the  next  morning  I  did  so,  leaving  in  the  house  only  a  peck 
of  potatoes  for  my  wife  to  live  on.  When  I  got  to  Biddeford, 
I  went  into  the  weave-room  upon  the  Pepperell  Corporation,  and 
obtained  a  situation.  I  worked  in  the  mill  two  or  three  days, 
when  two  of  the  men  that  agreed  to  come  to  Biddeford  came 
into  the  mill  where  I  was  working,  one  of  them  so  exhausted, 
having  been  without  food  for  some  time,  and  walked  from  New- 
buryport,  that  he  fainted  in  the  room,  and  had  to  be  carried 
out.  I  got  work  for  the  two  men.  As  soon  as  I  received  some 
money,  I  sent  it  to  my  wife,  who  immediately  came  to  Bidde- 
ford, leaving  her  little  furniture  behind.  1  drank  so  hard  now, 
while  in  Biddeford,  that  my  wife  could  not  put  up  with  it,  and 
she  told  me  that  she  was  determined  to  leave ;  and  as  I  could 
not  persuade  her  to  stay,  I  left  my  work,  and  went  to  Portland 
with  her,  and  to  the  wharf  where  she  took  the  steamboat  for 
St.  John. 

I  stood  again  upon  the  same  wharf  that  I  had  stood  upon 
about  four  years  before, but  under  what  different  circumstances! 
I  thought  that  I  had  escaped  to  a  land  of  freedom,  but  I  found 


148  DEGRADED  AND  HOPELESS. 

that  I  had  only  got  myself  into  a  worse  condition  than  I  was 
in  when  in  the  army ;  for  there  I  was  under  a  discipline  that 
restrained  me  to  a  considerable  extent,  but  here  I  did  as  I  wished, 
and  I  thought  how  fast  I  had  gone  down  hill  the  past  four  years. 
But  the  boat  was  about  leaving,  and,  bidding  my  wife  good-by 
and  kissing  my  child,  I  jumped  upon  the  wharf.  Oh !  that  it 
should  come  to  this,  that  my  wife  should  have  to  leave  nae,  be- 
cause I  was  such  a  brute  that  she  could  not  live  with  me.  I 
never  had  abused  her,  never  struck  her;  I  felt  glad  that  I  could 
say  that  much,  but  again  I  thought  that  there  was  much  that  I 
could  not  say.  I  had  not  provided  for  her  as  I  should,  and  my 
conduct  had  brought  misery  and  degradation  upon  her.  These 
thoughts  came  upon  me  as  I  watched  the  boat  fast  disappearing 
from  my  view ;  and,  wiping  away  the  tears,  I  went  up  into  the 
city,  and,  as  I  had  no  money,  I  sold  some  clothes  off  my  back, 
to  get  money  enough  to  carry  me  to  Biddeford  again. 

When  I  arrived  at  Biddeford,  I  felt  ashamed  to  go  into  the 
weave-room,  and  I  went  over  into  Saco,  and  got  a  situation  up- 
on the  York  Corporation,  but  meeting  some  boon  companions, 
I  went  on  a  'spree,'  and  lost  my  chance.  When  I  got  sober,  I 
determined  to  leave  Biddeford,  and  selling  some  extra  clothes 
that  I  had,  obtained  money  enough  to  carry  me  to  Newburyport. 
When  I  got  to  Newburyport,  I  went  to  the  place  where  my 
furniture  was,  and  found  it  all  safe,  and  then  I  tried  to  get  a 
chance  to  work  in  the  mill,  but  was  not  successful.  I  now  be- 
gan to  lead  a  worse  life  than  ever,  and  shortly  after  I  came 
back,  got  into  drunken  row  in  the  house  of  an  Englishman,  and 
had  to  run  for  my  life.  As  I  had  no  boarding-house,  I  walked 
the  streets  two  nights  and  three  days  without  sleep  or  food  of 
any  kind.  The  next  night  I  went  to  the  friend  that  I  have  re- 
ferred to  before,  who  had  helped  me  out  of  difficulties  many 
times  before,  and  he  gave  me  half  a  dollar,  which  I  spent  for 
something  to  eat  and  a  lodging  for  the  night.  The  next  day  I 
tried  again  to  get  work  in  the  mill,  and  was  successful. 

I  was  now  boarding  with  a  man  named  T ,  who  kept  a 


SAVING  A  WOMAN  FROM  BEING  MURDERED.      149 

man  and  his  wife  beside  myself.  The  man  that  boarded  with 
me  was  a  great  drinker,  and  would  often  come  home  intoxicated. 
He  came  home  one  evening  intoxicated ;  he  was  jealous  of  his 
wife,  and  had  often  threatened  her  life,  and  she  was  always  afraid 
of  him  when  he  was  in  drink.  She  followed  him  to  his  bed- 
room, and  she  there  heard  him  handling  his  razor  and  strop,  and 
talking  about  taking  life.  She  hurried  down  stairs  to  the  keep- 
er of  the  house,  who  was  an  old  man,  and  informed  him  that 
she  was  suspicious  that  her  husband  meant  to  take  her  life. 
The  boarding  master  came  and  told  me  that  I  must  take  care 
of  the  fellow.  I  took  the  tongs,  and  stationed  myself  beside 
the  door  that  he  would  pass  through  as  he  came  down  stairs. 
I  soon  heard  him  coming  down,  and  as  he  reached  the  door,  he 
saw  me  prepared  to  meet  him,  upon  which  he  halted.  I  saw 
the  razor  in  his  hand,  and  I  said : 

'Bill,  what  are  you  going  to  do?  If  you  do  not  instantly 
put  aside  that  razor  I  will  knock  you  down.'  Seeing  that  I  was 
determined  to  be  as  good  as  my  word,  he  put  the  razor  down 
upon  the  table,  saying, '  We  have  always  got  along  well,  and  I 
don't  wish  to  have  any  quarrel  with  you.' 

*  Well  then,'  I  said, '  if  you  do  not  wish  to  have  a  quarrel 
with  me,  you  must  go  up  to  your  bed-room  and  stay  there.' 

He  went  up  to  his  room,  and  did  not  show  himself  until 
morning,  when  he  left  the  place,  without  taking  his  wife. 

I  soon  commenced  drinking  again  as  bad  as  ever,  and  one 
Sunday  a  number  of  us  -assembled  in  a  drinking-house,  and  I 
fell  in  with  a  fighting  character,  and  as  I  was  known  to  box  a 
little,  I  was  matched  against  him  for  a  pint  of  brandy.  The 
one  that  got  the  first  clip  would  have  to  pay  for  the  drinks. 
We  stood  up,  and  commenced  to  strike  and  parry,  and  I  soon 
gave  him  a  light  blow  in  the  face.  I  let  my  hands  fall  down  by 
my  side  as  soon  as  I  gave  the  blow,  and  my  opponent,  taking 
advantage  of  my  exposed  condition,  struck  me  a  pretty  severe 
blow,  knocking  me  down  in  the  corner  of  the  room.  I  was  up- 
on my  feet  in  an  instant,  and  before  the  company  could  arrest 


150  GETTING  A  GOLD  DUCK. 

me,  I  gave  him  a  blow  that  threw  him  against  the  wall.  Here 
the  company  separated  us,  and  the  fellow  apologized,  and  paid 
for  the  liquor. 

After  we  drank  I  started  to  go  home,  the  people  were  just 
coming  from  church,  and  I  felt  rather  ashamed  to  be  seen  in 
the  condition  that  I  was  in,  and  I  ran  down  upon  a  wharf  that 
was  near,  and  as  this  was  in  the  winter,  jumped  upon  the  ice. 
It  was  in  small  cakes,  and  I  sank  into  the  water.  I  arose,  but 
could  not  get  out,  as  I  was  entirely  surrounded  by  small  cakes 
of  ice  that  would  not  support  me.  I  cried  out  for  help,  and 

F ,  that  kept  the  rum-shop,  with  another  man,  came  to  my 

rescue.  They  pulled  me  out  with  some  difficulty,  and  after 
recovering  some,  they  invited  me  to  go  and  have  a  drink,  but  I 
would  not,  and  went  home,  looking,  as  the  saying  is,  '  like  a 
drowned  rat.' 

A  short  time  after,  a  few  of  us  met  in  F 's  rum-shop,  and 

for  sport,  one  said  that  he  could  tell  our  fortunes  by  the  bumps 
on  our  heads,  and  putting  his  hands  upon  the  young  man's 
head,  said, '  You  will  live  many  years,  if  you  do  not  make  way 
with  yourself.' 

The  young  fellow  said,  *  I  intend  to  live  long  enough  to  pay 
my  debts,  and  then  I  shall  take  my  life.' 

This  answer,  that  seemed  to  be  made  in  good  earnest,  sent  a 
chill  over  the  company,  and  we  soon  separated,  but  I  did  not 
forget  the  answer  that  was  made.  It  seemed  to  me  just  as  if 
the  young  man  meant  what  he  said,  and  I  thought  that  if  I 
lived,  I  would  see  to  what  an  end  the  man  came. 

I  had  written  to  my  wife  a  number  of  times,  and  had  sent 
money  for  her  to  come  up  with,  and  as  I  thought  she  would  be 
up  soon,  I  secured  a  tenement,  and  had  my  furniture  moved  to 
my  new  quarters,  and  thought  that  I  would  keep  bachelor's  hall 
until  she  came.  Not  long  after  this,  my  poor,  long-suffering 
wife  joined  me  once  more,  and  did  what  she  could  to  keep  me 
out  of  the  rum-shops. 


BTEUCK  UN  DEB  CONVICTION. 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 

I  HAVE  now  reached  the  period  in  my  history,  the  most  im- 
portant. Hitherto  I  relied  upon  my  own  strength,  but  I  now 
called  upon  one  who  was  able  and  willing  to  save  to  the  utter- 
most, all  that  put  their  trust  in  him.  The  inebriate's  friend, 
the  sinner's  Saviour,  the  only  one  that  is  able  to  sustain  us  when 
the  hour  of  trial  comes,  and  place  our  feet  upon  a  sure  founda- 
tion. 

About  this  time,  a  vestry,  where  the  children  of  God  held 
stated  prayer-meetings,  was  moved  to  a  spot  near  where  I  lived, 
and  one  evening  I  told  my  wife  that  I  was  going  in  to  see  how 
they  performed.  I  had  never  attended  one  since  I  was  a  boy ; 
I  therefore  took  my  boy  with  me  and  went  into  the  meeting. 
As  I  entered,  a  female  was  engaged  in  prayer.  How  strangely 
it  thrilled  me !  It  seemed  to  bring  back  my  early  days,  when 
I  knelt  beside  my  little  bed,  with  my  grandmother  at  my  side, 
and  repeated  my  evening  prayer.  The  prayer  seemed  to  touch 
my  heart,  and  it  was  with  considerable  effort  that  I  restrained 
the  tears  from  flowing.  I  would  have  given  anything  to  have 
been  out  of  the  place,  but  I  could  not  stir  from  the  spot.  When 
the  meeting  closed,  I  went  home,  and  my  wife  asked  me  how 
I  liked  the  meeting.  I  told  her  I  did  not  think  much  of  it,  but 
I  felt  at  the  same  time  that  I  was  telling  a  falsehood.  I  went 
out  of  the  house  and  down  to  a  shop  where  I  drank  a  glass  of 
liquor,  to  drive  away  the  feeling  that  existed  within  me,  but  it 
was  of  no  avail.  I  could  not  stop  my  thoughts,  and  I  felt  as 
bad  as  ever. 

In  a  day  or  two  after,  some  one  came  into  the  mill  and  told 
me  that  a  woman  that  worked  for  me,  and  that  I  had  missed 


152  RISING  FOR  PRAYERS. 

from  work,  wished  to  see  me,  as  she  was  near  death.  I  went 
to  see  her,  hardly  believing  the  sad  news,  as  I  saw  the  woman 
the  day  before  in  perfect  health,  but  I  found  her  speechless  and 
near  death,  and  I  soon  went  back  to  my  work  in  the  mills,  but 
I  was  restless,  and  I  went  out  of  the  mills  to  the  house  where 
she  was  sick,  and  found  her  dead,  and  friends  weeping  over 
her.  Although  I  had  passed  through  many  trying  scenes,  yet 
I  shed  tears  at  that  time. 

As  I  went  back  to  my  work,  what  thoughts  rushed  through 
my  mind !  Are  you  prepared  to  die  ?  I  could  not  answer  this 
question  as  I  wished  I  could,  I  was  not  prepared.  I  thought 
of  the  promise  I  made  God  when  I  was  sick  in  the  hospital. 
Oh,  that  I  had  kept  it.  I  thought  that  this  was  a  warning  to 
me,  'Be  ye  also  ready.'  It  seemed  as  if  God  had  spoken  to  me 
by  his  providence  numerous  times. 

That  night  there  was  a  prayer-meeting  again  in  the  vestry, 
and  I  went  with  my  little  boy.  As  I  entered  I  was  interested 
by  the  hymn  that  was  sung,  which  they  had  just  commenced  as 
I  entered ;  the  first  words  were  these,  *  Jesus  died  on  Calvary's 
mountain.'  How  sweet  they  sounded  to  me,  and  I  thought, 
Did  Jesus  die  on  Calvary's  mountain  for  me  ?  Did  Jesus  do 
this  for  poor  sinners? — all  this,  and  I  have  rebelled  against  him 
all  my  life.  And  as  they  sung  another  hymn  with  the  beautiful 
words,  '  Children,  come  home?  I  thought  those  words  cannot 
apply  to  me,  it  is  to  those  alone  that  love  him,  and  have  been 
faithful  to  him.  I  felt  that  I  was  not  a  child  of  God,  that  I  was 
living  far  from  him,  therefore  those  sweet  words  could  not  be 
addressed  to  me.  I  trembled  in  my  seat.  The  sweat  dropped 
from  my  brow,  and  I  felt  that  I  should  sink  to  the  floor.  After 
the  hymn  was  sung,  the  minister  prayed,  and  others  followed, 
and  all  their  prayers  seemed  to  be  directed  to  me.  I  could  not  sit 
upon  my  seat,  I  must  do  something ;  and  with  considerable  dif- 
ficulty, I  pulled  myself  up  by  the  seat  before  me,  and  told  them 
that  I  wished  to  become  a  member  of  their  society  (as  I  had 
never  been  to  a  prayer-meeting  since  a  boy,  I  was  not  acquaint- 


FINDING  PEACE   WHILE  PRATING.  153 

ed  with  their  rules  and  customs,  and  was  altogether  ignorant). 
As  I  sat  down,  the  people  smiled  all  around  me,  and  some  even 
laughed  aloud,  whilst  others  seemed  to  be  angry,  thinking  that 
I  was  making  fim  of  them,  as  I  had  led  such  a  dissipated  life. 
Soon  after  the  meeting  closed,  the  minister  came  along  and 
shook  me  by  the  hand,  and  said :  '  God  bless  you.'  This  was 
something  new  to  me,  to  have  a  respectable  man  shake  me  by 
the  hand,  as  though  I  were  a  brother,  and  say,  'God  bless  you.' 
I  could  have  withstood  the  curses  of  a  companion,  and  could 
have  replied  to  him,  but  the  voice  of  love,  of  sympathy,  and 
kindness  was  something  new,  and  I  could  not  withstand  it ;  I 
could  not  say  a  word,  but  burst  into  tears.  I  left  the  place,  and 
went  home.  My  wife  asked  me  how  I  liked  the  meeting.  I  re- 
plied that  I  liked  it  much.  '  But  wife,'  I  continued, '  I  want  you 
to  pray  for  me,  I  am  no  scholar,  and  I  do  not  know  how.'  But 
my  wife  made  no  reply  to  my  request,  and  I  thought,  I  will 
pray  myself.  But  then,  I  said  to  myself,  how  can  I  pray,  sinner 
that  I  am,  will  it  be  acceptable  ?  But  whilst  these  thoughts 
rushed  through  my  mind,  I  remembered  the  hymn  that  was  sung 
at  the  prayer-meeting : 

'  Just  as  I  am,  without  one  plea, 
But  that  thy  blood  was  shed  for  me, 
And  that  thou  bidst  me  come  to  thee, 
O  Lamb  of  God,  I  come  I ' 

I  fell  upon  my  knees  and  confessed  my  sins  to  God  and  asked 
his  pardon.  My  wife  could  not  subdue  her  tears,  but  falling 
down  beside  me  upon  her  knees,  we  both  prayed  earnestly  and 
humbly  to  God,  and  He  came  down  and  blessed  us  there. 

I  always  thought,  before  that,  that  prayer  was  a  senseless, 
cold,  heartless  ceremony ;  but  what  a  mistake  I  made,  for  I  felt 
my  heart  softened,  and  that  Jesus  that  died  upon  Calvary's  hill 
was  near  me.  I  felt  the  peace  of  God  that  passeth  understand- 
ing whilst  I  was  upon  my  knees ;  and,  although  ignorant  as  I 
was  of  spiritual  things,  the  great  mystery  of  salvation  and  the 
atonement  came  like  a  ray  of  light  from  heaven,  and  illumina- 


154  ALL  THINGS  BECOME  NEW. 

ted  ray  benighted  soul,  and  we  both  arose  justified,  I  believe, 
in  the  sight  of  God.  As  I  arose  upon  my  feet  I  felt  that  I  was 
a  new  being.  I  was  loaded  with  guilt  and  sin  when  I  bowed 
before  the  Throne  of  Grace,  but  now  it  was  gone,  and  I  felt 
that  I  could  say  amen  to  the  passage  in  the  Scripture,  *  For  my 
yoke  is  easy,  and  my  burden  is  light.'  I  felt  like  a  child,  and, 
as  I  looked  back  upon  my  past  life,  I  thought,  '  Oh  that  I  could 
live  my  life  over  again,  and  that  what  I  know  now  I  had  expe- 
rienced in  the  morning  of  life !  Oh  that  I  had  found  Christ 
years  ago;  what  a  progress  I  might  have  made  in  life,  and 
what  comfort  and  happiness  might  I  have  enjoyed!' 

I  think  of  my  grandmother  now, 
And  of  the  warm  tears  that  she  shed. 

And  how  at  night-fall  she  did  bow 
By  the  side  of  my  lowly  bed. 

And  with  her  hands  uplifted  there, 

Methinks  that  her  form  I  can  see, 
Now  kneeling  beside  the  arm-chair, 

As  she  offered  her  prayer  for  me. 

Earnest  and  long  she  plead  for  me, 
And  her  spirit  seemed  crushed  within, 

That  I  from  the  tempter  might  flee, 
And  be  kept  from  the  ways  of  sin. 

Those  prayers  still  ring  in  my  ears, 
Though  offered  long,  long  years  ago ; 

As  I  think  of  them  now,  the  hot  tears 
Down  my  cheeks  unbiddingly  flow. 

The  prayers  that  my  grandmother  prayed 

Have  found  favor  with  God  on  high, 
And  though  long  in  the  earth  she's  laid, 

Her  spirit  seems  now  ever  nigh. 

The  next  day  I  went  to  my  work ;  and,  as  I  entered  the  mill, 
some  laughed  at  me,  as  they  had  been  told  that  I  spoke  in  the 
prayer-meeting;  but  I  paid  no  attention  to  the  sneers  or  re- 
marks that  were  made,  as  I  felt  happy  for  the  first  time.  I  went 


TRYW'l   TO   READ   THE  BIBLE.  155 

with  my  wife  to  the  next  prayer-meeting,  and  in  the  course  of 
the  evening  I  arose  and  said  that  I  was  a  great  sinner,  and  that 
I  desired  their  prayers  for  me.  Some  laughed,  whilst  a  few  said 
amen.  The  meeting  closed,  and  the  minister  came  and  shook 
me  by  the  hand ;  and,  as  this  was  Saturday,  asked  me  to  attend 
church  next  day.  I  made  no  reply,  as  I  felt  ashamed  to  tell 
him  that  I  had  no  clothes  to  wear.  Whilst  I  was  going  home, 
the  words  that  were  spoken  by  some  one  at  the  meeting, 'Give 
up  all  for  Christ,'  seemed  to  ring  in  my  ears,  and  I  thought, 
'What  can  I  give?  I  have  no  clothes,  money,  or  anything;' 
and  then  again,  I  thought  of  the  words  in  the  hymn, — 

'  In  my  hand  no  price  I  bring, 
Simply  to  thy  cross  I  cliug.' 

On  the  Sabbath  I  remained  at  home,  and  tried  to  read  the  Bi- 
ble ;  but  I  did  not  succeed  very  well,  and  I  laid  it  aside.  Sab- 
bath evening  I  attended  the  meeting,  and  told  them  that  I  had 
peace  and  joy  in  calling  upon  the  Lord,  and  that  I  felt  that  He 
had  heard  my  prayers.  No  one  laughed  at  me  now,  as  they 
found  out  that  I  was  in  earnest. 

1  attended  the  prayer-meeting  regularly,  and  soon  obtained 
suitable  clothes  and  went  to  church,  and  listened  to  the  preach- 
ing of  the  gospel,  and  felt  strengthened  in  the  Lord.  My  ap- 
petite for  liquor  continued  for  some  time,  but  with  the  help  of 
God  I  was  enabled  to  overcome  it. 


156  JOINING   THE  CHVRiW. 


CHAPTER    XXIV. 

As  soon  as  my  eyes  were  opened  and  I  saw  the  goodness  of 
God,  my  heart  went  out  for  others,  and  I  succeeded  in  getting 
some  of  my  old  companions  into  the  prayer-meeting.  My  low 
songs  that  I  before  had  sung  in  the  bar-room,  were  now  changed 
into  hymns;  and  I  purchased  me  a  hymn-book,  and  my  wife 
read  the  hymns  to  me  until  I  could  repeat  them,  and  I  soon 
began  to  sing,  which  I  found  profitable  to  me,  for  it  kept  my 
mind  active,  and  made  me  forget  the  old  habits  which  some- 
what clung  to  me. 

Oh !  if  poor  drunkards  could  come  to  Him  who  is  mighty  to 
save,  and  who  alone  can  lead  them  safely  through  this  world, 
then  would  they  know  in  whom  to  put  their  trust,  and  they 
would  find  Him  a  high  tower  to  which  they  could  flee  in  time 
of  danger.  The  poor  man  who  resolves  to  leave  off  in  his  own 
strength,  how  often  he  falls  by  the  way !  Not  so  those  who 
put  their  trust  in  the  Lord,  for  they  are  strong  in  Him,  and  all 
the  powers  of  darkness  cannot  prevail  against  them;  and  when- 
ever trials  come,  they  will  find  his  grace  sufficient  for  them. 

I  continued  to  walk  in  the  way  the  Lord  directed,  and  to 
grow  in  grace ;  and  I  was  asked  by  a  number  of  the  brethren 
to  unite  with  the  church,  and  after  some  thought  upon  the  sub- 
ject, rny  wife  and  myself  were  baptized,  and  united  with  the 
Christian  Church,  under  the  care  of  Rev.  Daniel  Pike,  May  7, 
1857. 

The  minister,  when  he  received  us  into  the  church,  held  up 
the  Bible,  and  told  us  to  take  it  for  our  guide ;  it  was  a  blank 


REVIVAL  BREAKING  OUT.  157 

book  to  me,  for  I  could  not  read  its  pages,  but  I  felt  that  I 
would  try  and  explore  it,  and  find  the  hidden  treasures  there. 
I  studied  some  three  months  upon  the  Bible,  and  learned  so 
that  I  could  read  it  tolerably  well.  How  proud  I  felt !  I  went 
to  the  meeting  and  I  told  them  that  I  could  read  the  Bible. 
That  evening  I  heard  them  pray  for  a  revival,  and  although  I 
had  heard  the  word  before,  I  did  not  know  its  meaning,  and  I 
went  home  and  asked  my  wife,  who  explained  the  meaning  of 
the  word  to  me. 

On  Christmas  evening  (I  never  shall  forget  it),  there  was  a 
prayer-meeting,  and  although  there  were  but  few  there,  yet  God 
was  with  them,  and  the  few  Christians  there  prayed  earnestly 
for  God  to  revive  his  work.  From  that  time  there  was  mani- 
fested quite  an  interest,  and  soon  the  candle  of  the  Lord  shone 
in  our  midst,  and  our  little  vestry,  that  we  were  wont  to  as- 
semble in,  was  filled  with  inquiring  sinners. 

We  commenced  a  protracted  meeting,  which  was  held  every 
evening  for  some  time.  There  was  one  young  man  that  attended 
those  meetings  regularly,  and  seemed  to  be  interested,  but  yet 
was  not  converted;  one  evening,  I  remember,  the  minister's 
mother  spoke  of  the  goodness  of  God  to  her;  she  spoke  with 
a  broken  voice,  and  it  touched  the  young  man's  heart,  and  he 
arose  for  prayers.  I  heard  this  young  man  say,  after  the  meet- 
ing, that  he  thanked  God  that  he  ever  heard  her  speak.  It 
was  the  voice  of  a  female  engaged  in  prayer  that  arrested  my 
attention.  The  tones  of  a  female  in  prayer  seemed  to  carry 
me  back  to  my  childhood  days,  when  my  mother  blest  and 
gave  me  to  God.  No  doubt  the  thoughts  of  the  young  man 
were  carried  back  to  his  childhood  days,  when  he  heard  the 
woman's  voice.  Perhaps  he  thought  of  the  time  when  a  kind 
mother  blessed  him  and  taught  him  to  say  his  evening  prayers. 

There  were  near  three  hundred  that  went  forward  for  pray- 
ers during  those  meetings.  The  revival  first  commenced  in  the 
little  vestry,  but  it  soon  spread  over  the  whole  city. 

No  Christian  that  passed  through  those  glorious  scenes,  when 


158  inr  FIRST  TEIAL. 

God  made  his  people  to  sit  together  in  heavenly  places  in 
Christ  Jesus,  can  ever  forget  them,  but  they  will  be  ever  fresh 
in  his  memory,  and  when  the  church  of  Christ  is  low  and  in 
darkness,  the  memory  of  those  scenes  will  serve  to  lighten  the 
Christian's  heart,  and  cause  his  faith  in  Christ  to  be  as  strong 
as  the  prophet  of  old,  who  said:  'Although  the  fig-tree  shall 
not  blossom,  neither  shall  fruit  be  in  the  vine ;  the  labor  of  the 
olive  shall  fail,  and  the  field  shall  yield  no  meat;  the  flocks 
shall  be  cut  off  from  the  fold,  and  there  shall  be  no  herd  in  the 
stall ;  yet  I  will  rejoice  in  the  Lord,  I  will  joy  in  the  God  of 
my  salvation.' 

Many  came  from  the  country  near  the  city  to  our  meetings, 
and  found  him  of  whom  Moses  and  the  prophets  did  write. 
Many  of  the  churches  of  Christ  were  refreshed  by  the  presence 
of  the  Lord,  and  were  strengthened  in  faith  and  numbers. 
One  beautiful  and  marked  feature  of  the  great  revival  was  the 
union  of  different  denominations,  and  the  harmony  and  oneness 
that  existed  at  that  time,  no  former  period  ever  witnessed.  The 
world  had  heretofore  charged  the  churches  with  coldness  to 
one  another,  but  this  barrier  being  broken  down,  the  world 
could  only  look  on  in  wonder,  and  exclaim :  '  This  is  the  Lord's 
doings,  and  is  marvellous  in  our  eyes.' 

I  continued  to  attend  the  public  services  in  the  house  of  God, 
and  to  be  prompt  at  the  social  prayer-meetings. 

Soon  after  I  joined  the  church,  Mr.  Stone  was  Sunday-school 
teacher,  and  he  gave  for  a  lesson  for  us,  Exodus  2 : 11,  12,  to 
give  our  opinion  upon ;  wife  read  the  story  to  me.  I  thought 
Moses  was  a  good  man,  and  would  do  no  wrong,  or  it  would  not 
have  been  in  the  Bible.  Wife  was  at  work  with  me  in  the  mill 
at  this  time.  The  overseer  seemed  jealous  of  me,  because  I 
would  get  thirty  and  forty  cuts  per  week,  of  cloth,  from  eighty- 
six  looms,  more  than  anybody  else.  Wife  had  sixteen  cents  per 
cut  for  weaving,  and  the  overseer  would  complain  that  some  of 
her  cuts  were  not  wove  well,  and  he  would  cut  her  down  ten 
cents  a  cut.  One  day  I  examined  hor  cuts  before  they  went  to 


A  LITERAL  INTERPRETATION.  159 

the  trimming-room,  and  found  they  were  all  perfect.  When 
they  were  taken  to  the  trimming-room,  as  usual,  the  overseer 
sent  back  two  of  her  tickets,  cutting  off  twenty  cents  again  of 
my  poor  wife's  earnings.  She  then  went  to  the  overseer  and 
asked  why  it  was  done,  and  asked  to  see  the  cloth.  I  was 
watching  the  old  scamp,  and  I  could  tell  by  the  motions  of  his 
mouth  that  he  was  abusing  her,  and  he  called  her  a  hussy.  I 
thought  then,  is  it  right  fbr*me,  an  Englishman,  who  had  mar- 
ried an  American  woman  whose  grandmother  used  to  feed  the 
soldiers  of  the  Revolution,  to  stand  by  and  see  her  abused.  I 
had  professed  religion  and  wanted  to  do  right.  The  overseer 
belonged  to  the  same  church  with  me.  Our  Sabbath-school 
lesson  came  up,  and  as  everybody  said  Moses  was  a  prophet  and 
a  good  man,  and  wife  had  read  to  me  Exodus  2:11, 12, '  And  it 
came  to  pass,  when  Moses  was  grown,  that  he  went  unto  his 
brethren  and  looked  on  their  burdens ;  and  he  espied  an  Egyp- 
tian smiting  a  Hebrew,  one  of  his  brethren.  And  he  looked 
this  way  and  that  way;  and  when  he  saw  there  was  no  man,  he 
slew  the  Egyptian,  and  hid  him  in  the  sand,'  and  quick  as  a  flash 
1  said,  here  goes  for  this  Egyptian.  I  made  a  rush  for  him,  and 
told  him  to  take  care  of  himself,  I  was  going  to  thrash  him  or 
he  should  me.  I  hit  him  under  the  ear  and  knocked  him  end 
over  end,  bringing  the  blood  from  his  ears  and  nose.  When  he 
got  up  he  ran  for  his  life,  and  I  after  him.  Wife  got  hold  of 
me  to  stop  me,  and  pulled  my  shirt  right  up  out  of  my  trowsers 
behind,  and  the  girls  ran  to  help  her,  and  I  caught  one  of  them 
up  and  tossed  her  right  slap  astride  of  a  loom  that  was  running; 
but  she  was  too  thick  for  filling  and  the  loom  stopped,  and  I 
rushed  on  after  the  overseer,  and  he  went  running  and  tumbling 
down  through  the  machine-shop  and  into  the  office,  and  told 
the  agent  Ambler  was  crazy,  and  he  fled  for  dear  life  and  hid. 
Well,  I  thought  if  this  Egyptian  had  hid  himself  it  would  save 
me  the  troiible  of  killing  and  hiding  him  myself.  You  see  I 
was  determined  to  be  a  Christian  after  the  pattern  of  Moses, 
and  so  I  felt  justified.  It  is  true,  I  fell  a  little  short,  but  my  in- 
tentions were  fully  up  to  the  pattern. 


160  CUUBCU  ADMONITION. 

Well,  I  was  called  before  the  church  on  a  charge  of  misde- 
meanor. What  a  jaw-breaking  word  that  was!  What  could 
it  mean  ?  They  told  me  it  meant  striking  one  of  my  brethren 
of  the  church.  So  I  got  up  and  told  them  all  about  it,  and  also 
about  brother  Stone's  Sabbath-school  lesson,  and  how  wife  had 
read  the  whole  story  to  me,  and  I  would  show  myself  as  much 
of  a  man  as  Moses  was.  He  pitched  into  the  Egyptian  for 
abusing  one  of  the  brethren,  and  was  not  my  wife  as  near  to 
me  as  Moses'  kinsman,  and  would  I  show  myself  a  man  if  I  did 
not  whip  the  rascal  for  abusing  a  poor  hard-working  wife  ?  The 
church  was  of  two  minds  about  it.  The  most  of  them  favored 
the  Hebrew,  and  so  I  came  off  with  flying  colors,  with  a  slight 
admonition  which  I  suppose  meant  something  like  this,  viz., 
that  I  should  look  this  way  and  that  to  see  if  anybody  was 
looking,  the  next  time  I  gave  any  lessons  in  Hebrew. 

But,  seriously,  I  tried  to  behave  myself  as  a  Christian,  so  as 
to  merit  the  approbation  of  my  conscience  and  good  men,  and 
the  chastisement  given  the  overseer  was  considered  no  unchris- 
tian thing,  as  the  following  testimony  of  the  agent  of  the  mill 
where  it  occurred  will  show : 

DEAR  SIR, — The  bearer,  Mr.  I.  W.  Ambler,  was  formerly  an 
employee  in  the  Ocean  Steam  Mills,  and  is  now  devoting  his 
time  to  the  work  of  a  city  missionary  in  Biddeford,  Me.,  and  is 
desirous  of  obtaining  an  education  that  he  may  be  the  better 
qualified  for  the  work  in  which  he  is  engaged.  I  hope  he  will 
meet  with  that  encouragement  he  deserves,  and  that  he  may 
have  the  sympathy  of  all  those  who  delight  in  doing  good. 
Respectfully  yours, 

E.  S.  LESLEY,  Agent  Ocean  Steam  Mills, 

Neioburyport,  Mass. 

About  this  time  I  heard  that  Ackroid,  who  had  been  my 
companion  through  a  portion  of  my  life,  had  been  killed  at  Se- 
bastopol.  I  felt  thankful  to  God  that  I  had  escaped  from  the 


MY  HEART  DRAWN  OUT  FOR   OTHERS. 

army,  and  that  He  had  shown  me  the  error  of  my  ways,  and 
brought  me,  as  I  trusted,  into  his  fold.  I  felt  a  strong  desire 
to  see  men  come  into  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  this  desire  so 
pervaded  my  mind,  that  when  at  my  work  this  was  the  thought 
that  was  ever  uppermost;  and  so  much  did  it  engage  my  at- 
tention, that  I  told  my  wife  that  I  could  not  work,  and  that  I 
thought  of  going  to  Biddeford  and  inviting  my  old  companions 
there  to  come  to  Christ.  I  left  the  mills  in  the  spi'ing  of  1859, 
and  took  the  cars  for  that  place. 

I  remained  in  Biddeford  some  three  weeks,  and  was  invited 
by  the  different  evangelical  churches  to  act  as  missionary  in 
that  place,  and  after  going  back  to  Newburyport  and  packing 
my  furniture,  I  returned  again  with  my  family,  and  commenced 
my  labors,  and  here  let  me  thank  the  members  of  the  different 
churches  of  Biddeford,  who  have  assisted  me  in  my  work  by 
their  earnest  prayers  and  generous  contributions. 

And  here  let  me  say  that  there  seemed  to  be  a  fitness  ob- 
served by  these  good  Christians  in  myself,  in  a  business  point 
of  view,  viz.,  that  'it  takes  a  rogue  to  catch  one ;'  for  had  I  not 
been  through  the  mill  from  Alpha  to  Omega,  and  if  I  did  not 
know  the  ropes  I  must  have  been  a  dull  scholar,  for  what  path 
of  vice  had  I  not  trod  ?  If  any  live  man  knew  how  to  pity 
the  poor,  the  ignorant,  the  despised,  and  drunken,  and  knew 
who  'had  woe,  who  had  sorrow,  who  had  wounds  and  bruises 
without  number,'  that  man  was  I.  W.  Ambler.  And  who  knew 
better  how  to  sympathize  with  destitute  fatherless  and  mother- 
less children  than  myself,  and  for  the  salvation  and  comfort  of 
such  my  heart  yearned. 

There  was  light  in  my  soul  I  knew,  and  feeling  enough  in 
my  heart,  but  oh  how  I  sorrowed  to  think  I  had  not  an  educa- 
tional vent  to  the  fullness  and  richness  of  God's  love  that  dwelt 
within  me,  so  that  by  just  hoisting  the  gates,  livers  of  truth 
might  burst  forth  and  overwhelm  all  around  me  with  such  a 
sense  of  God's  love  as  to  make  them  cry  out,  'I  yield,  I  yield, 
by  dying  love  compelled.'  Well,  here  I  was,  nothing  but  poor, 
11 


162  W  MY  ELEMENT. 

ignorant  Sergeant  Ambler;  what  was  to  be  done.  Well,  I  had 
re;id  in  the  Bible  that  God  could  thresh  mountains  with  worms, 
and  I  said  that  coat  fits  me;  I  guess  the  mountains  will  feel 
cheap  when  a  worm  like  me  knocks  them  to  pieces  and  wheels 
them  into  line  for  the  kingdom  of  God.  I  had  read,  too,  that 
Jesus,  when  he  wanted  to  catch  men,  called  some  fishermen  to 
help  him,  and  they  left  their  nets  without  stopping  to  get  an 
education,  and  he  made  them  fishers  of  men ;  and  I  said,  a  sol- 
dier is  as  good  material  to  start  with  as  an  old  fisherman,  and 
my  blessed  captain,  Jesus,  has  never  lost  a  battle,  and  has 
called  me  to  charge  on  the  ranks  of  sin  and  capture  as  many 
as  I  can  and  compel  them  to  come  into  the  camp  of  the  Lord, — 
and  so  I  will  go  out  into  the  highways  and  hedges  and  get 
some  recruits  for  the  army  of  the  Lord. 

The  first  work,  then,  was  to  get  quarters  where  I  could  enlist, 
instruct,  and  drill  all  who  would  come  into  the  army  of  Cap- 
tain Jesus.  With  some  help,  I  got  a  hall  into  which  to  gather 
the  children  and  others.  One  of  the  first  obstables  to  be  over- 
come was  the  bare-legged,  bare-footed,  and  bare-headed  condi- 
tion of  the  poor  children,  rendering  them  unfit  for  promiscuous- 
ly assembling ;  and  it  was  astonishing,  too,  how  little  the  sleek, 
fat,  easy  church-going  people  knew  of  the  terribly  squallid  con- 
dition of  the  poor  children  in  the  city.  I  went  to  work  begging 
old  clothes,  hats,  caps,  and  shoes,  and  new  cloth  when  I  could 
get  it,  to  make  up  for  them.  We  formed  a  circle  of  ladies  for 
charity  sewing,  which  met  at  my  house  every  week.  My  wife, 
being  a  milliner  and  dressmaker,  used  to  cut  the  garments,  and 
the  good  ladies  made  them  up,  and  in  a  short  time  we  got  them 
clothed  so  neatly  that  they  were  not  ashamed  to  go  to  meeting, 
and  our  hall  filled  up  so  that  we  had  not  room  enough  for  all. 

In  the  morning  I  preached  temperance  to  them,  not  in  great 
jaw-breaking  words  to  make  their  eyes  stick  out  and  wonder, 
and  for  two  reasons :  first,  I  could  not  wear  Goliath's  big  coat  if 
I  wanted  to.  I  remember  Deacon  Cole  came  in  to  see  how  I 
got  on  with  my  big  family,  as  I  was  making  a  speech  to  the 


HOW  I  WORKED  IT.  163 

children.  I  told  the  deacon  that  David  once  tried  it,  and  it  was 
no  go ;  but  when  he  got  to  the  brook,  he  took  a  stone  and  put 
in  his  sling  and  hit  old  Goliath  plump  in  the  forehead  and 
brought  him  down,  and  in  that  scrape  Goliath  got  something 
new  in  his  head.  And  the  second  and  chief  reason  was, 
that  I  don't  believe  in  any  such  way  of  reaching  men's  hearts. 
Paul  says,  'I  had  rather  speak  five  words  with  my  understand- 
ing that  I  may  teach  others  also,  than  ten  thousand  words  in 
an  unknown  tongue.'  So  I  told  them  my  experience,  how  I 
used  to  get  drunk  and  disgraced  myself  and  wife,  and  went 
hungry  and  cold,  and  was  despised,  and  how  I  wanted  to  leave 
off,  and  how  rumsellers  and  old  chums  would  get  me  to  take 
one  drink  with  them,  and  then  down,  DOWN,  DOWN"  I  went 
into  the  gutter ;  and  then  how  God  helped  me  at  last  when  I 
prayed  to  Him,  and  had  kept  me  by  His  grace  out  of  the  clutches 
of  rumsellers.  Now  I  was  happy,  my  wife  was  happy,  and  my 
child  was  happy,  and  we  had  enough  to  eat,  good  clothes,  and 
got  into  good  Christian  company,  and  was  respected.  Drinking 
men  would  sit  and  listen,  and  begin  to  cry,  and  come  to  me  when 
I  was  done,  and  tell  me  they  were  tired  of  living  so,  and  wanted 
to  leave  off;  and  sometimes  I  would  cry  with  them  and  for 
them,  I  could  not  help  it ;  and  then  they  would  get  hold  of  my 
hand  and  ask  me  to  pray  for  them;  and  they  would  sign  the 
pledge,  get  steady  work,  good  clothes  for  their  families,  and  get 
out  to  church  with  them  and  get  converted,  and  they  would  be- 
gin to  catch  men  by  telling  them  their  experience.  So  the  good 
work  went  on.  Reader,  this  is  the  way  to  catch  men.  When 
a  man  forgets  alt  about  how  much  or  how  little  he  knows,  and 
begins  to  tell  others  how  he  was  saved  just  as  well  as  he  can 
with  a  warm  heart,  the  leaven  begins  to  work,  and  his  experi- 
ence, told  in  this  simple  way,  becomes  the  wisdom  of  God  and 
the  power  of  God  unto  the  salvation  of  his  hearers.  Persecu- 
tors are  thrown  off  their  guard  in  this  way,  and  the  gospel-hook 
gets  such  hold  that  you  can  pull  them  right  in. 

In  going  through  the  city  I  saw  many  sad  sights.    I  remem- 


164  ^   IIARD  CASE  BEACHED. 

bcr  of  finding  in  a  place  called  Dudley's  block  four  children 
locked  in  a  room  with  a  little  bed  of  straw  in  the  corner,  with- 
out chairs  or  other  furniture  aside  from  an  old  broken  stove, 
and  a  few  odds  and  ends  of  crockery.  I  talked  with  them 
through  the  window ;  they  were  hungry  and  nearly  as  naked  as 
when  they  came  into  the  world,  and  they  told  me  their  mother 
was  at  work  in  the  mill  and  would  be  out  at  noon,  at  which 
time  I  went  again  and  saw  the  mother,  and  found  the  children 
were  fatherless,  and  the  poor  mother  with  poor  health  was  drag- 
ging herself  back  and  foi-th  to  the  mill,  when  she  was  hardly 
able  to  be  off  her  bed,  to  get  bread  to  put  into  the  mouths  of 
her  little  ones.  I  went  with  a  friend  whom  I  called  to  witness 
the  scene  of  wretchedness,  and  got  some  chairs,  clothing,  and 
food,  and  took  to  this  poor  family.  The  mother  and  children 
followed  me  to  the  door,  blessing  me  until  I  got  out  of  hearing. 

Truly  this  is  real  gospel ;  and  will  it  not  be  said  at  last,  '  In- 
asmuch as  ye  have  done  it  unto  one  of  these  little  ones,  ye 
have  done  it  unto  me.'  It  seemed  as  though  devils  that  others 
could  not  cast  out  would  be  brought  to  me.  One  gentleman 
who  ran  a  shoe-shop  said  he  had  a  good  workman  who  was  an 
awful  drunkard,  and  if  I  would  make  a  sober  man  of  him,  he 
would  believe.  Mr.  N.  pointed  him  out  to  me  from  the  other 
workmen,  and  I  went  into  the  workroom  and  introduced  my- 
self to  him,  and  told  him  some  of  my  history,  how  hard  it  was 
for  me  to  leave  off  drinking,  but  I  had  got  the  victory.  It 
seemed  to  wake  him  up ;  but  he  said  it  was  no  use  for  him  to 
try  to  do  anything ;  his  wife  had  left  him,  etc.,  and  he  was  too 
far  gone.  I  told  him  if  he  would  sign  the  pledge  I  could  get 
his  wife  back;  that  he  could  leave  it  off;  God  would  help,  and 
his  wife  would  help  him.  "Well,  he  says,  if  you  will  get  my 
wife  to  come  back  I  will  sign  the  pledge.  I  told  him  to  sign 
first  and  I  would  take  it  to  her  and  show  her  what  he  had 
done ;  she  was  then  boarding  in  the  city.  He  signed  the  pledge 
and  passed  it  to  me.  I  told  him  to  put  on  his  coat  and  come 
along.  We  went  to  the  place  where  she  stopped  and  took  a 


ALL  RIGHT  NOW. 

seat  in  the  waiting-room,  and  a  servant  went  for  her.     When 
she  came  into  the  room  she  seemed  much  surprised.     I  arose 

and  said,  Mrs. ,  shall  I  introduce  you  to  Mr. ,  who 

has  signed  the  pledge. 

She  sat  right  down,  hardly  able  to  speak  a  word,  and  began 
to  feel  of  her  apron,  taking  hold  of  it  with  botli  her  hands,  fin- 
gering the  hem  and  nervously  passing  it  through  from  one  side 
to  the  other.  I  told  her  how  God  would  help  them  both,  and 
how  happy  they  would  get  along,  and  I  was  sure  her  husband 
would  keep  the  pledge,  and  soon  she  began  to  melt,  and  they 
began  their  cooing  like  young  doves.  I  seized  my  hat  and  ran 
away,  and  left  them  in  this  happy  state.  This  was  a  genuine 
reform,  and  he  has  kept  the  pledge  from  that  day  to  this.  My 
friend,  Mr.  N.,  now  believes.  Well,  go  on  Mr.  N.,  many  be- 
lieve and  have  not  seen. 


16G  SEE  A  KING   UP  A  RUM-SHOP. 


CHAPTER    XXV. 

ONE  more  item  connected  with  ray  missionary  work  here  I 
will  relate.  A  Mr.  Higginbottom,  whom  we  got  to  sign  the 
pledge,  and  was  true  for  some  time,  was  induced  by  two  broth- 
ers, who  kept  a  rum-shop  near  a  church  in  the  city,  to  go  in. 
They  at  last  got  him  to  take  one  glass,  and  then  all  his  old  ap- 
petite revived  and  he  drank  until  he  got  intoxicated,  and  then 
they  kicked  him  out  into  the  street,  and  he  was  taken  by  the 
police  to  the  station,  where,  during  the  night,  when  he  began  to 
come  to  himself  and  see  what  he  had  done,  he  was  so  filled 
with  remorse  that  he  took  his  knife  and  cut  his  throat.  The 
keepers  got  the  knife  from  him  until  he  sobered  off,  and  the 
terrible  gash  was  sewed  up.  I  was  notified  and  went  to  the 
station,  and  the  poor  fellow  gave  the  knife  to  me  all  covered 
with  blood  (which  1  now  keep),  and  told  me  all  about  it.  The 
next  evening  I  attended  the  church  near  by,  and  the  brethren 
prayed  this  rum-shop  might  be  removed,  and,  feeling  inspired 
to  do  so,  I  jumped  up,  and  told  them  the  rum-shop  never 
would  be  removed  until  they  put  their  shoulder  to  the  wheel 
and  helped  to  remove  it.  I  think  it  was  the  next  day  when  I 
left  my  house  I  prayed  and  said,  *O  God,  help  me  this  once  to 
put  my  shoulder  to  the  wheel  and  stop  this  rum-shop.'  These 
brothers  that  kept  this  rum-hole  were  both  professional  fighters, 
and  the  people  seemed  afraid  to  meddle  with  them.  On  I  went 
to  the  place,  the  spirit  of  the  Lord  with  me  strengthening  me, 
and  I  entered.  One  of  the  brothers  stood  behind  the  counter, 
and  the  other  was  out.  I  went  up  to  him  and  told  him  not  to 
stir  out  of  his  tracks,  if  he  did  I  would  shake  him  out  of  his 


POUNDING   TEMPERANCE  INTO  A  RUMSELLER.    167 

boots.  I  went  behind  the  counter  and  smashed  the  decanters 
and  one  or  two  jugs  of  liquor,  and  kicked  over  the  counter  and 
found  a  very  large  jug  under  the  counter  full  of  whisky,  which 
I  seized  and  took  under  my  arm,  and  walked  out  amidst  a  crowd 
that  had  gathered,  and  pulling  out  the  stopper  let  it  spill  along 
the  street  until  it  was  emptied,  the  people  cheering  me  as  I 
went  along.  The  poor  rumseller  remaining  like- one  spell-bound 
in  his  den.  I  then  returned  and  asked  him  how  much  damage 
I  must  pay.  He  said  nothing.  I  am  glad  you  have  done  it. 
On  returning  home  I  fell  in  with  a  friend  who  passed  along  up 
Alfred  street  with  me,  and  who  should  we  meet  but  the  other 
brother,  who  asked  me  what  I  meant  by  spilling  his  liquor,  and 
said  he  would  knock  as  much  out  of  me.  I  said  you  can't  do 
that,  as  I  have  had  none  inside  of  me  for  three  years.  He 
struck  me  in  the  face  and  knocked  me  round,  and  before  I  re- 
covered struck  me  again  upon  the  other  cheek.  My  friend  told 
me  I  must  spunk  up,  or  he  would  get  the  better  of  me.  I  told 
my  friend  that  the  good  book  said,  '  When  thou  art  smitten 
upon  one  cheek  turn  the  other  also ; '  but  it  did  not  say  what  I 
must  do  after  that,  so  here  goes.  He  came  upon  me  again,  and 
I  knocked  him  down,  hoping  that  brief  argument  would  con- 
vince him  of  his  mistake ;  but  he  up  and  made  for  me  again. 
I  gave  him  a  second  knock-down  argument,  and  as  he  lay 
across  the  side-walk  with  his  head  hanging  over  it,  he  being  a 
very  large  strongman,  I  concluded  a  few  inferences  drawn  from 
these  strong  points  already  made,  and  well  laid  over  his  head, 
would  bring  on  a  strong  conviction  of  his  errors,  and  change 
him  for  the  better;  so  I  jumped  upon  him  with  one  knee  on  his 
breast  and  one  hand  hold  of  his  throat,  and  gave  him  a  few 
'  arousements '  over  his  head  and  ears,  until  he  sued  for  mercy. 
1  told  him  I  would  let  him  up  when  he  promised  me  solemnly 
he  would  leave  off  rum-selling.  This  he  finally  concluded  to 
do,  and  took  the  pledge  before  God  and  me  and  my  friend 
never  to  sell  liquor  again. 

This  was  the  first  and  last  time  that  I  ever  hammered  tern- 


168  DOJvr  ADrrsK  ALL  TO  DO  so. 

perancc  into  a  rumscllcr ;  and  it  made  mo  think  of  Rev.  Peter 
Cart wright,  that  muscular  oil  Methodist  saint.  A  blacksmith 
of  great  physical  strength  attacked  him  one  Sunday  when  on 
his  way  to  his  appointment,  and  said  he  would  hammer  him  to 
death  if  he  did  not  stop  his  d — d  proselyting  work.  The  g->od 
old  man  knocked  him  down,  and  cuffed  him  until  he  promised 
to  become  a  Christian,  and  the  minister  said  over  the  Lord's 
prayer,  and  made  the  blacksmith  repeat  it  after  him,  until  he 
could  say  it  all.  In  brief,  he  converted  the  blacksmith,  and  he 
joined  the  Methodist  church,  and  used  to  laugh  afterward  about 
Elder  Cartwright's  pounding  the  gospel  into  him.  This  rum- 
seller  did  leave  the  business  and  became  ray  fast  friend,  and  I 
afterward  got  him  a  good  pkce  in  Portland  where  he  could 
Avork  and  earn  an  honest  living. 

I  don't  advise  people  to  this  way  of  reforming  men,  but  there 
was  once  a  time  when  the  loving  Jesus  made  a  scourge  of  small 
cords  and  went  at  the  money-changers  and  drove  them  out  of 
the  Temple. 

The  good  work  went  on,  and  my  labors  were  sometimes  very 
perplexing,  especially  when  I  came  to  the  money  matters.  I 
found  a  lot  of  Mr.  Wish  wells  and  Mrs.  Hopewells,  but  the  fam- 
ily of  Do  wells  were  not  so  numerous.  It  is  said,  '  Money  makes 
the  mare  go,'  and  a  truer  saying  never  was  uttered  than  that, 
of  missions.  It  took  a  good  deal  of  cash  to  carry  my  mission 
along,  and  I  had  a  good  chance  to  learn  human  nature  on  this 

O7  O 

matter.  Some  lessons  I  will  give,  and  if  I  should  hit  anybody, 
I  hope  it  will  hurt  as  well  as  hit,  and  the  poor  stingy  souls  will 
never  get  over  it  until  a  gospel  blister  is  drawn  deep  enough  to 
let  off  some  of  their  covetousncss.  Really  it  seems  to  me  if 
such  professors  could  see  just  how  they  look  as  others  see  them, 
they  would  go  into  hysterics,  like  the  girl  that  saw  herself  the 
first  time  she  ever  saw  a  looking-glass.  Her  parents  were  poor, 
and  in  addition  to  their  poverty  had  religious  objections  to  look- 
ing-glasses. They  moved  into  a  village,  and  sent  the  little  girl, 
who  was  ragged,  dirty,  and  hair  uncombed,  to  a  neighbors,  and 


ONE  OR   TWO  MISSIONARY  INCIDENTS.  1Q9 

as  she  entered  the  house  she  came  in  contact  with  a  mirror,  and 
beholding  her  own  face,  she  screamed  and  ran  home,  declaring 
to  her  parents  that  she  had  seen  the  devil,  and  when  she  de- 
scribed him  they  at  once  saw  the  point.  If  I  should  hold  up  a 
glass  and  any  one  should  say,  after  they  look  into  it,  they  had 
seen  the  devil,  I  should  say  at  once,  no,  no,  it  was  only  a  re- 
flection. 

Here  is  one  funny  little  thing  Avhich  was  the  result  of  a  mis- 
apprehension, and  was  apologized  for  immediately  on  finding 
out  the  mistake.  I  had  been  out  begging  old  clothes,  and  had 
a  large  bundle  on  my  back  given  me  by  good  souls  around  the 
town,  and  I  entered  the  front  yard  of  a  gentleman  of  large  in- 
fluence and  means  to  get  more  clothing,  and  I  met  the  proprie- 
tor on  the  front  steps,  who  immediately  challenged  me  before  I 
had  time  to  tell  him  my  errand,  and  with  a  terrible  growl  or- 
dered me  to  go  about  my  business,  supposing  me  to  be  a  pack- 
peddler,  which  class  of  persons  he  always  held  in  abhorrence. 

His  wife  told  him  that  he  treated  the  city  missionary  rather 
rough.  He  was  all  taken  aback  when  he  learned  that,  and  sent 
for  me  and  made  a  very  gentlemanly  apology,  and  had  a  good 
laugh  at  it,  so  I  did  not  kill  him  for  driving  me  off. 

One  time,  when  collecting  clothing  for  the  children,  I  called 
at  a  clothing-store  which  was  run  by  two  very  pious  men,  and 
told  them  what  others  had  given,  and  asked  them  to  help  a 
little ;  they  got  some  small  hats  that  were  out  of  style,  and  a 
few  yards  of  cloth  and  gave  me.  This  they  afterwards  charged 
to  me,  and  also  six  dollars  which  they  handed  to  a  friend  after- 
wards for  the  support  of  what  was  called  the  Evening  Free 
School,  because  I  was  so  unfortunate  as  to  be  in  his  company 
at  the  time.  They  afterwards  sued  me  for  these  things  and  the 
six  dollars  given  to  another  man,  and  I  was  brought  before  the 
court  and  judgment  found  against  me.  Here  I  was  in  a  fix 
without  a  dollar,  and  the  only  witness  I  had  to  disprove  a  part 
at  least  was  in  the  army.  I  had  no  great  desire  to  go  to  jail,  but 
then  good  old  Paul  had  been  in  prison,  and  I  concluded  I  could 


170  AFFIDAVIT. 

stand  it.  God  opened  the  way  for  me  out  of  this.  The  friends 
who  felt  ashamed  for  them  subscribed  the  cash  on  the  spot, 
even  the  judge  opened  his  purse  and  helped.  It  was  a  foul 
blot.  I  will  not  name  the  mean  men,  but  I  will  here  introduce 
the  affidavit  of  the  man  who  received  the  six  dollars  instead  of 
myself. 

BOSTON  HARBOR,  MASS.,  GALLOTJP'S  ISLAND,  ) 

Nov.  29th,  1864.  \ 

In  the  winter  of  1859, 1  received  six  dollars  from  Mr.  Daniel 
Stimpson,  in  the  city  of  Biddeford,  Maine,  as  a  charity  gift  for 
a  mission  school,  called  the  '  Evening  Free  School,'  Mr.  I.  W. 
Ambler  standing  at  my  side  at  the  time.  Mr.  Ambler  did  not 
borrow  the  money  of  the  aforesaid  D.  Stimpson.  In  proof  of 
which  I  hereby  affix  my  name,  GEORGE  H.  BLAKE. 

Subscribed  and  sworn  to  before  me,  at  Galloup's  Island,  B.  H., 
this  29th  day  of  November,  1864.          D.  T.  CORBIN, 

Capt.  13th  Regt.  Vet.  Res.  Corps,  Judge  Advocate. 

I  would  not  of  course  call  any  names,  but  I  dare  not  mutilate 
the  affidavit,  and  if  anybody  should  suspect  the  name  of  the 
firm  from  anything  contained  in  that,  it  would  be  a  most  unfor- 
•tunate  thing. 

During  my  work  in  Biddeford  I  found,  at  what  is  called 
Smith's  Corner,  in  a  wretched  old  house,  a  family  consisting  of 
a  grandmother  and  two  motherless  children  in  a  sad  condition  of 
poverty.  The  children  about  six  and  eight  years  old,  a  boy  and 
girl.  When  the  mother  died,  she  gave  them  to  the  grandmother, 
who  had  maintained  them  by  going  out  at  washing  until  the 
poor  woman's  health  had  given  way.  The  children  had  no  other 
bed  than  a  pile  of  old  rags  in  one  corner  of  the  room.  They 
were  nearly  naked.  The  poor  old  lady  told  me  the  sad  tale  of 
their  suffering  and  poverty.  With  her  consent,  I  took  the  two 
children  into  the  street,  concluding  their  nakedness  and  ema- 
ciated forms  would  constitute  a  living  epistle  so  eloquent  that 


THE  POOR  FAMILY  BLESSED. 

my  lips  would  hardly  need  to  be  opened  in  their  behalf.  I  met 
several  Christian  men,  and  asked  for  something  for  them  and 
the  aged  and  sick  grandmother.  I  was  turned  off  at  first  with 
the  request  to  go  to  one  L.  B.  and  state  my  case,  or  rather  theirs. 
This  man  was  noted  for  his  note-shaving  and  money-loving  na- 
ture, and  I  suppose  these  good  men  thought  these  little  living 
sermons  would  be  vain  with  him;  at  any  rate  it  seemed  to  me 
that  they  thought  this  would  be  a  test  case.  I  went  to  my 
fdend  L.  B.  and  stated  the  facts,  and  with  a  tear  in  his  eye  he 
said,  'Ambler,  I  believe  you,'  and  drew  his  wallet  and  gave  me 
five  dollars  and  told  me  to  call  on  him  for  more  if  it  was  needed ; 
and  here  let  me  say,  I  never  went  to  him  in  vain,  while  many 
who  mouth  the  heavens  with  their  prayers  gave  me  the  cold 
shoulder. 

The  first  ones  after  my  success  with  L.  B.  helped  like  good 
men,  and  I  soon  had  them  nicely  clothed  and  led  them  back  to 
the  good  old  grandmother,  who  hardly  knew  them,  their  good 
clothes  and  clean  faces  so  changed  them.  She  cried  for  joy,  and 
blessed  me  again  and  again.  The  poor  old  lady  was  not  for- 
gotten, and  was  made  comfortable.  This  poor  little  girl  had 
often  tried  to  get  work  in  the  mill,  but  had  been  repulsed  with 
the  remark,  *  you  are  too  small.'  Oh,  how  it  brought  back  to 
me  my  own  struggles  when  a  child.  Her  condition  was  so  like 
mine,  mother  dead  and  her  father  a  di-unkard,  and  the  poor 
child  often  crying  for  bread.  Here  is  a  bit  of  poetry  that  tells 
the  loneliness  and  sorrow  of  such  better  than  I  can  describe  it: 

Out  in  the  gloomy  night,  sadly  I  roam, 
I  have  no  mother  dear,  no  pleasant  home ; 
Nobody  cares  for  me,  no  one  would  cry 
Even  if  poor  little  Bessie  should  die. 
Barefoot  and  tired,  I've  wandered  all  day 
Asking  for  work,  but  I'm  too  small  they  say ; 
On  the  damp  ground  I  must  now  lay  my  head,— 
'Father's  a  drunkard,  and  mother  is  dead.' 


172  SPILLING   THE  RUM. 

Cliorus— Mother,  oh !  why  did  you  leave  me  alone, 

With  no  one  <  o  love  me,  no  friends  and  no  home ; 
Dark  is  the  night,  and  the  storm  rages  wild, 
God  pity  Bessie,  the  drunkard's  lone  child. 

We  were  so  happy  till  father  drank  rum, 
Then  all  our  sorrow  and  trouble  begun ; 
Mother  grew  paler,  and  wept  every  day, 
Baby  and  I  were  too  hungry  to  play. 
Slowly  they  faded,  and  one  summer's  night 
Found  their  dear  faces  all  silent  and  white; 
Then  with  big  tears  slowly  dropping  I  said : 
'  Father 's  a  drunkard,  and  mother  is  dead.' 

Chorus — 

Oh,  if  the  temperance  men  only  could  find 
Poor,  wretched  father,  and  talk  very  kind, — 
If  they  could  stop  him  from  drinking, — why,  then 
I  should  be  so  very  happy  again ; 
Is  it  too  late?  '  men  of  temperance '  please  try, 
Or  poor  little  Bessie  may  soon  starve  and  die. 
All  the  day  loug  I've  been  begging  for  bread, 
'  Father 's  a  drunkard,  and  mother  is  dead.' 

Chorus — 

Many  cases  of  the  kind  might  be  named,  but  space  will  not 
permit.  But  I  must  not,  I  will  not  leave  out  one  other  case. 
Soon  after  the  case  above  named,  one  night,  after  I  had  gone 
to  bed,  there  came  a  knock  on  my  door.  I  called  to  know 
what  was  wanted.  Was  told  that  a  woman  who  was  very  sick 
and  who  lived  on  Emery's  lane  wanted  to  see  me.  I  dressed 
and  went  down,  and  found  in  the  front  room  a  bar  where  liquor 
was  kept  for  sale.  I  was  shown  into  the  kitchen,  where  lay  the 
sick  woman.  She  asked  me  to  pray  with  her.  I  told  her  I 
could  not  pray  with  that  liquor  in  the  house.  She  said,  I  shall 
loose  my  soul  if  it  is  not  taken  away.  I  asked  her  if  I  should 
destroy  it.  She  said,  yes.  I  rolled  the  cask  out  into  the  back- 
yard, and,  taking  an  axe,  knocked  in  the  head  and  let  it  run. 
An  old  covy  came  along,  caught  up  a  dish  and  dipped  up  what  he 
could  in  the  yard  and  drank  it.  I  then  went  in  and  prayed 


MAECHING   WITH  THE  SUNDAY  SCHOOL.          173 

with  the  woman,  and  she  found  some  peace.    The  next  day 
Mr.  K.  gave  me  a  team,  and  I  took  the  woman  and  moved  her 

to  Mrs. ,  who  took  care  of  her  until  she  got  better.    I 

then  went  and  told  the  Rev.  Mr.  Tenney  of  her  case.  He 
called  and  prayed  with  her,  and  she  soon  came  fully  into  the 
kingdom,  and  finally  joined  his  church  and  became  a  shining 
light.  She  moved  to  Lawrence,  and  soon  sent  to  him  some 
money  to  be  used  as  he  thought  best.  Rev.  Mr.  T.  called  on 
friend  H.  and  asked  what  had  better  be  done  with  it,  and  he 
suggested  putting  it  into  a  corner-stone  of  a  new  church  as  a 
memorial  of  a  convert's  first  offering  to  the  Redeemer's  cause, 
which  was  done.  Brother  Tenney,  God  bless  him,  never  failed 
to  go  to  the  call  of  the  poor  when  I  made  known  any  case  of 
the  kind  to  him.  God  blessed  me  in  my  work,  and  a  goodly 
number  found  the  pearl  of  gi-eat  price.  Our  Sunday  school 
was  a  joy  to  us  all.  We  had  some  of  the  sweetest  little  sing- 
ers I  ever  heard  among  them,  and,  during  my  labors,  we  gave 
some  interesting  exhibitions,  and  I  must  say  I  never  felt  so  big 
in  my  life  as  I  did  when  marching  at  the  head  of  a  company  of 
200  children  to  our  Sabbath-school  exhibition,  who  had  been 
picked  up  and  clothed  and  trained  in  the  way  of  righteousness. 
During  my  work  in  Bkldeford  I  felt  the  need  of  education, 
and  I  wanted  funds  to  help  me  to  books  and  schooling,  and  as 
my  life  and  former  history  had  been  made  known  to  some  of 
my  friends,  they  suggested  the  idea  of  my  publishing  my  biog- 
raphy, it  being  such  a  checkered  one  I  might  realize  a  sum  from 
that  which  would  secure  the  funds  I  needed.  I  followed  their 
advice  and  found  a  very  good  sale  for  my  book,  and  was  get- 
ting together  funds  for  that  purpose,  when  the  terrible  rebellion 
broke  out ;  this  was  nearly  a  year  after  I  began  my  missionary 
efforts  in  Biddeford. 


174     LEAVING  THE  MISSION  FOR  THE  DRILL-ROOM. 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 


I  WAS  in  Boston,  selling  my  book,  on  that  memorable  13th 
of  April,  18G1,  when  the  rebels  fired  on  Fort  Sumter. 

Rev.  A.  L.  Stone  and  the  editor  of  the  JSoston  Journal  sug- 
gested to  me,  that  having  been  a  drill-sergeant  in  the  English 
army,  it  was  my  duty  to  leave  all  book  and  missionary  work, 
and  enter  at  once  on  the  work  of  instructing  our  men  in  mili- 
tary tactics,  to  prepare  them  for  the  battle  of  freedom  and 
union.  I  abandoned  my  book  sale,  putting  it  in  charge  of  my 
wife,  and  on  the  15th  of  April,  I  formed  the  Young  Men's 
Christian  Association  of  Boston  into  a  drill  club,  and  gave 
them  their  first  lesson. 

I  believe  it  was  right  to  teach  the  disciples  how  to  use  the 
sword,  although  as  a  means  of  reform  it  might  not  be  justified; 
but  there  were  times  in  the  Saviour's  day,  after  the  disciples 
had  showed  their  faith  and  meekness  by  turning  the  other 
cheek  when  smitten  on  the  one,  and  taking  no  purse  nor  scrip; 
when  they  should  take  their  purse  if  they  had  one,  and  arm 
themselves  too.  Luke  22:  35,  36, — 'And  he  said  unto  them, 
when  I  sent  you  without  purse  and  scrip  and  shoes,  lacked  ye 
anything  ?  and  they  said,  nothing.  Then  said  he  unto  them, 
but  now  he  that  hath  a  purse  let  him  take  it  and  likewise  his 
scrip ;  and  he  that  hath  no  sword,  let  him  sell  his  garment  and 
buy  one.'  It  was  a  waste  to  have  a  sword  and  not  know  how 
to  use  it,  and  it  shows  that  there  are  times  that  a  disciple  is 
better  off  without  a  coat  than  he  would  be  without  a  sword. 
And  this  time  of  rebellion  seemed  to  me  to  be  the  time  for 
Christian  men  to  buckle  on  the  armor  and  fight  for  God  and 
humanity. 


TESTIMONIALS.  175 

When  I  went  to  Boston  to  sell  my  book,  I  took  some  letters 
along,  so  that  the  good  people  had  something  besides  my  face 
in  which  to  see  my  character,  which  papers  secured  for  me  the 
ears  of  the  Governor  of  Massachusetts  and  others,  when  I 
opened  on  them  for  halls,  etc.,  for  training  recruits.  I  will  only 
give  one  or  two  of  them. 

BIDDEFORD,  Dec.  8,  1859. 

This  may  certify,  that  Mr.  Isaac  "W.  Ambler  has  been  em- 
ployed during  nearly  a  year,  by  the  Evangelical  churches  in 
this  city  as  a  city  missionary,  and  has  sustained  an  excellent 
character.  He  has  the  entire  confidence  of  this  Christian  com- 
munity. He  is  very  anxious  to  educate  himself  for  the  ministry, 
and  for  this  purpose  is  now  engaged  in  selling  his  own  biogra- 
phy. This  book,  I  have  no  doubt,  is  an  authentic  account  of  a 
life  full  of  incident  and  adventure.  I  commend  Mr.  Ambler  to 
the  kind  sympathies  of  all  the  friends  of  Christ. 

Signed,  CHAS.  PACKARD, 

Pastor  of  the  2d  Cong.  Church. 

I  most  sincerely  concur  in  all  the  statements  of  the  above 
certificate,  and  cheerfully  commend  Brother  Ambler  to  the 
favorable  notice  of  all.  H.  B.  ABBOTT, 

Pastor  of  the  M.  E.  Church,  Biddeford. 

1  hereby  concur  in  the  above. 

P.  JAQUES, 
Pastor  of  the  M.  E.  Church,  Saco. 

BIDDEFORD,  Dec.  8th,  1859. 

Mr.  Isaac  W.  Ambler,  for  a  year  past,  has  devoted  his  time 
and  energies  to  missionary  labor  among  the  poor  of  this  place, 
and  especially  to  soften  the  hardships  of  the  poor  children,  col- 
lecting for  them,  with  untiring  diligence,  and  dispensing  with 
good  judgment  clothing,  so  as  to  bring  them  in  classes  into  the 


176  THE  USE  OF  THEM. 

Sunday  school,  and  to  enable  them  to  go  to  the  public  schools 
decently  clad.  Mr.  Ambler  is  a  conscientious,  good  man,  I 
verily  believe,  self-sacrificing  and  charitable  in  the  best  sense  of 
the  word.  His  life  has  been  somewhat  adventurous,  so  that  in 
order  to  help  himself  to  a  home  he  has  caused  a  book  of  narra- 
tive of  his  life  to  be  published,  which  I  hope  will  afford  him 
some  profit.  AUGUSTIXE  HAINES, 

Agent  of  the  Laconia  Mills. 

Being  a  stranger  in  Boston,  or  nearly  so,  such  letters  at  once 
gave  me  a  hearing,  and  also  secured  for  me  the  confidence  of 
the  people. 

F.  B.  Wentworth  (God  bless  his  big  heart !)  bought  me  a  full 
military  suit  and  gave  it  to  me,  so  I  could  put  on  military  airs 
n*j  once.  It  was  of  great  use  in  stirring  up  young  America,  and 
oH  America  too ;  as  I  found  the  old  boys  paying  as  much  de- 
ference to  my  epaulettes  as  the  younger  ones.  Thus  accoutred, 
I  went  upon  the  street.  Our  flags  were  flying  from  every  part 
of  the  city,  and  upon  State  street  there  was  great  excitement, 
and  everybody  was  out  talking  over  the  state  of  things.  Notice 
was  given  out  that  Fletcher  Webster,  the  son  of  the  great  Dan- 
iel Webster,  was  going  to  speak  from  the  balcony  of  the  old 
State-house.  This  was  on  Sunday,  and  the  crowd  surged  in 
that  direction.  Some  of  the  boys  that  I  had  been  drilling  when 
they  saw  me  in  my  soldier  rig,  made  a  rush  for  me,  and  took  me 
right  up  and  carried  me  on  their  shoulders  to  the  State-house, 
and  walked  up  the  steps  with  me  on  their  shoulders  on  to  the 
balcony,  amid  the  shouts  and  cheers  of  the  multitudes. 

This  was  pretty  good  for  Ambler,  I  thought,  for  who  was 
poor  me  to  be  lionized  in  such  a  way,  ignorant  as  I  was,  never 
having  been  to  school  a  day  in  my  life.  It  almost  knocked  the 
wind  out  of  my  sails  to  think  of  it,  of  speaking  to  such  a  crowd. 
When  Webster  got  through,  they  sung  out  for  Sergeant  Am- 
bler. Of  one  thing  I  was  sure,  viz.,  thr.t  if  I  did  not  understand 
how  to  speak  grammatically,  I  did  understand  military  matters 


SPEECH  FROM  OLD  STATE-HOUSE. 


SPEECH  AT  THE  STATE-HOUSE.  177 

as  well  as  the  best  of  them,  and  this  put  me  at  ease,  and  at  the 
same  time  I  felt  that  God  would  help  me.  I  took  for  my  sub- 
ject Christian  Heroism,  and  the  duties  of  the  hour.  I  told 
them,  although  I  was  an  Englishman  by  birth,  I  was  then  an 
American  by  adoption.  That  I  had  suffered  oppression  in  my 
fatherland  by  those  invested  with  a  little  power,  who  exercised 
it  to  the  very  letter.  In  this  land  of  freedom,  your  forefathers 
fought  for  that  independence  of  which  you  and  I  now  boast. 
The  Duke  of  Wellington  was  my  commander-in-chief  in  1842, 
when  I  joined  the  English  army.  The  iron  duke  was  the  hero 
of  a  hundred  battles.  Napoleon  Bonaparte  Avas  the  king  of 
warriors  in  the  European  world ;  but  these  two  illustrious  gen- 
erals dwindle  into  insignificance  when  compared  with  your 
illustrious  Washington.  They  fought  for  despotism,  he  for  lib- 
erty and  equality  lor  all  men.  I  then  pointed  to  the  flag  above 
us,  and  told  them  I  had  fought  for  the  union-jack,  but  now  I 
would  fight  for  the  stars  and  stripes  so  long  as  God  would  give 
strength  to  my  good  right  arm.  Your  country  is  my  country, 
where  you  go  I  will  go,  as  you  are  ready  to  pour  out  your  life- 
blood  for  this  union,  undivided,  now  and  forever,  so  am  I  ready 
to  pour  out  my  blood  to  keep  that  good  old  flag  from  trailing 
in  the  dust ;  and  to  preserve  this  glorious  union,  this  best  form 
of  government  the  world  ever  saw,  where  every  man  is  a  king, 
and  a  king  is  but  a  man.  At  this  point  I  did  not  know  but. 
they  would  all  run  wild.  They  shouted  and  cheered,  and  threw 
their  hats  into  the  air  as  if  they  never  cared  whether  they  ever 
had  another  hat  or  not.  There  was  something  in  the  very  air 
on  the  occasion,  in  everything  about  us,  that  would  almost 
make  a  dumb  man  eloquent.  I  will  not  say  that  I  was  elo- 
quent, and  I  am  sure  I  would  not  say  I  was  not,  for  I  have 
some  religious  objections  to  lying;  but  one  thing  is  sure,  the 
steam  was  up ;  the  old  American  war-horse  snuffed  the  battle, 
and  not  very  far  off. 

But  enough  as  to  my  speech.     It  pained  some  of  my  friends 
to  hear  of  my  speaking  to  a  crowd  upon  the  perils  and  duties 
12 


178  RUSHING  MATTERS  IN  THE  DRILL. 

of  the  hour  on  the  Sabbath,  and  Major  Sturgis  wrote  me  a 
letter  expressing  his  regret  at  this  step;  he  also  thought  I  had 
better  not  get  outsiders  into  the  drill-room  with  the  Young 
Men's  Christian  Association,  it  was  mixing  things  up  too  much. 
Well,  I  was  sorry  to  offend  such  a  good  man.  I  told  him  it 
would  not  do.  We  had  a  big  job  on  our  hands,  and  we  musl 
have  all  the  boys  we  could  reach  inside  and  out  to  finish  it  up. 
lie  afterwards  saw  and  acknowledged  I  was  right,  and  wa& 
nn  unllinching,  faithful  friend,  and  often  felt  for  me  clear  down 
into  his  breeches  pocket. 

At  this  time  the  numbers  multiplied  so  who  wanted  to  learn 
the  drill,  that  I  had  not  room  for  them  at  the  Young  Men's 
Christian  rooms,  and  I  went  to  see  the  governor  for  accommo- 
dations. He  told  me  to  go  to  the  postmaster,  and  tell  him  to 
let  me  have  the  hall  over  the  post-office,  which  I  secured  ;  and 
in  the  mean  time,  several  other  gentlemen  got  another  hall  on 
Washington  street,  and  Deacon  Robert  furnished  another,  so 
the  ball  was  rolling  good. 

In  these  rooms  I  worked  from  five  A.  M.  until  ten  p.  M.,  drill- 
ing the  different  squads  of  men.  Some  of  the  rooms  were  for 
officers,  and  some  for  privates.  I  was  so  much  on  my  feet,  drill- 
ing men  in  the  broad-sword  and  bayonet  exercise  and  march- 
ing, that  my  feet  became  swollen  so  I  could  not  put  on  my 
boots,  and  often  worked  in  my  stocking-feet. 

At  this  time,  Mr.  Dwight  came  to  me,  and  wanted  me  to  aid 
his  son  (who  was  then  stationed  at  Staten  Island)  to  raise  three 
hundred  men  to  fill  up  his  regiment.  I  went  to  work  with  all 
the  energy  I  possessed  to  raise  the  men.  I  thought  I  would 
try  a  little  of  the  old  style  to  rope  in  the  old  country  boys;  so  I 
got  an  Irishman  and  put  a  military  suit  on  him,  and  put  ribbons 
on  his  hat,  and  furnished  him  with  a  fifer  and  drummer,  and  the 
trio  went  down  to  Haymarket  square,  and  through  among  the 
shipping  offices,  and  the  boats  where  they  would  be  likely  to 
find  the  boys,  and  in  this  way  we  soon  got  up  a  regular  military 
fever,  and  in  less  than  a  week  I  got  the  three  hundred  men  to 


LETTERS  OF  COMMENDATION.  179 

fill  up  Colonel  Dwight's  regiment.  Dwight  was  lieutenant-colo- 
nel at  the  time,  and  on  the  receipt  of  this  addition,  making  a 
full  compliment  of  men  for  his  regiment,  he  was  made  colonel. 
Captain  Bugbee,  in  this  regiment,  whom  I  had  aided  in  filling 
his  company,  expressed  his  gratitude  for  my  services  in  the  fol- 
lowing letter. 

Co.  H.,  1st  Regt.,          > 
CAMP  SCOTT,  June  29th,  1861.  ) 
BROTHER  AMBLER: 

Dear  sir, — I  take  a  spare  moment  to  thank  you  for  your  kind- 
ness and  the  services  you  rendered  me.  We  are  here  and  at 
home.  "Well  received  and  kindly  treated.  Colonel  Dwight  is 
a  fine  man,  a  good  officer,  and  well  beloved  by  all,  and  we  are 
all  happy  we  are  here ;  my  company  musters  ninety-two  men, 
and  I  expect  to  have  one  hundred  inside  of  the  next  twenty- 
four  hours. 

Edlesson,  who  was  sergeant  but  now  second  lieutenant,  wishes 
you  to  have  those  instructions  in  the  sword  written  off  for  him. 
With  friendship, 

Capt.  W.  H.  BUGBEE. 

The  captain  had  good  reason  to  feel  obliged,  for  I  had  drilled 
him  and  also  his  company,  either  in  person  or  by  proxy.  Per- 
haps I  ought  to  explain  what  I  mean.  I  had  so  many  men  and 
officers  under  instruction,  that  I  would  give  a  sergeant  a  lesson 
and  send  him  to  the  company  to  give  the  same  lesson.  This  is 
what  I  mean  by  drilling  by  proxy. 

I  furnished  my  own  swords  and  other  drill  articles  with  the 
exception  of  muskets,  and  those  I  obtained  by  such  letters  as 
the  following: 

BOSTON,  May  2, 1861. 
To  ADJUTANT-GENERAL  SCHOULER: 

Dear  Sir, — I  have  known  Mr.  I.  W.  Ambler  for  some  time, 
and  have  all  confidence  in  his  integrity.  Any  arms  the  depart- 


180  BRITISH  DRILL   CLUBS. 

ment  may  commit  to  his  care,  I  have  no  doubt  will  be  both 
properly  cared  for  and  accounted  for. 

Very  truly,  HEXRY  HOYT, 

WILLIAM  R.  STACY, 
(  'HAS.  H.  PARKER, 
CHAS.  W.  BABCOCK. 

I  got  up  a  company  of  Englishmen  who  afterwards  went  to 
the  front,  and  made  many  a  rebel  bite-the  dust.  These  fellows 
were  true  as  steel  and  were  well  drilled,  and  no  Yankee  was 
more  earnest  and  true.  Some  of  the  old  British  formality  still 
clung  to  them,  as  the  reader  may  see  by  the  note  which  they 
usually  sent  me  on  drill  nights,  which  I  here  insert. 

BOSTON,  June  11,  1861. 
I.  W.  AMBLER,  ESQ. 

Sir, — The  members  of  the  Boston  British  Drill  Club  are  to 
meet  to-night  in  Revere  Hall,  Bowdoin  square,  at  eight  o'clock 
precisely.  Your  attendance  is  earnestly  requested,  therefore 
please  fail  not.  By  order, 

Clerk  pro  tern. 

P.  S.  Any  friends  you  may  know  interested  in  the  cause  in- 
vite them  to  meet  with  us  and  enroll  their  names,  as  we  shall 
be  happy  to  have  an  augmentation  to  our  numbers. 

These  men  were  converts  to  the  good  cause  made  by  my  big 
speech  from  the  balcony  of  the  State-house  on  that  memorable 
Sunday.  I  might  as  well  call  it  a  big  one,  for  it  was  about  a 
big  thing,  if  the  rhetorical  flourishes  were  lacking,  and  it  bore 
fruit  that  the  rebs  found  rather  hard  to  takev 

I  drilled  Colonel  Webster  and  some  of  his  officers  of  the  4th 
Mass.  Vol.,  who  soon  left  for  the  seat  of  war. 

For  several  months  I  toiled  in  the  old  Granite  State,  giving 
myself  hardly  time  for  food  and  sleep.  The  papers  had  con- 
siderable to  say  about  my  work  at  this  time.  Here  is  a  little 
sample  from  the  Boston  Journal  of  June  5, 1861 : 


PAPER   SQUIBS. 

BOSTON  AND  VICINITY,  June  5,  1861. 

SERGEANT  AMBLER  AND  nis  LABORS. —  In  justice  to  true 
merit  we  feel  called  upon  to  s;iy  that  no  one  iu  our  city  has 
done,  or  is  doing,  more  to  inculcate  a  military  sentiment  among 
our  people  than  our  patriotic  fellow  citizen,  Mr.  Ambler.  Leav- 
ing the  pulpit  for  the  drill-room,  he  has  given  his  whole  time, 
without  remuneration,  to  the  instruction  of  recruits;  laboring 
incessantly  for  their  benefit  and  for  the  cause,  regardless  alike 
of  fatigue  and  personal  comfort. 

Mr.  Ambler  is  an  accomplished  military  tactician,  having 
seen  long  service,  and  is  equally  at  home  with  the  musket,  bay- 
onet, or  broadsword ;  and  to  him  is  due  not  a  little  of  the  skill 
of  some  of  the  officers  of  the  Massachusetts  Volunteer  Militia 
in  the  use  of  the  sword.  To  thorough  experience  in  all  branch- 
es of  the  military,  he  unites  gentlemanly  deportment  and  a 
felicitous  manner  of  conveying  his  knowledge  to  others.  His 
positions  are  classic  and  faultless,  which,  with  his  agility,  gives 
him  a  wide  range  of  personal  defense. 

He  now  has  a  large  class  receiving  daily  instructions  in  the 
broadsword  exercise,  and  although  no  one  scholar  has  taken 
more  than  six  lessons,  yet  a  remarkable  progress  has  been  made, 
and  the  proficiency  manifested  fully  attests  the  ability  of  Mr. 
Ambler. 

The  highest  terms  of  praise  are  bestowed  by  his  pupils,  who 
would  take  great  pleasure  in  seeing  him  at  the  head  of  a  mili- 
tary school  upon  a  much  larger  scale,  under  the  patronage  of 
the  State,  which  is  due  not  less  to  the  personal  sacrifices  he  has 
made  for  the  cause  than  to  the  acknowledged  ability  which  he 
brings  to  the  business. 

On  reading  such  squibs,  the  people  in  Maine  began  to  feel  as 
though  they  had  some  claims  that  a  '  white  man  was  bound  to 
respect,' as  I  was  a  resident  of  that  State,  and  letters  came 
pouring  in  upon  me,  to  go  down  and  help  them  whet  up  things 
and  show  them  'how  fields  were  won.' 


182  GOING  TO  CAMP  PREBLE. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

THE  Sixth  Maine  were  in  camp  at  Camp  Preble,  and  the  fol- 
lowing officers  sent  me  an  invitation  to  come  and  drill  them  in 
the  broadsword  and  bayonet  exercise,  and  the  word  of  com- 
mand :  Col.  Hiram  Burnham,  Capt.  M.  "W.  Brown,  Capt.  James 
Snowman,  Capt.  Benjamin  F.  Harris,  Maj.  Frank  Pierce,  Capt. 
Charles  Day,  Lieut.  B.  J.  Buck,  Lieut.  W.  Buck,  Capt.  W.  H. 
Stanchfield,  Adj.  John  D.  McFarland,  Lieut.  Otis  W.  Kent, 
Lieut.  George  P.  French,  Lieut.  II.  B.  Strout,  Lieut.  John  M. 
Lincoln,  Lieut.  George  Roberts,  Lieut.  W.  P.  Wardwell,  Lieut. 
G.  C.  Poor. 

On  the  9th  of  July,  I  went  to  Camp  Preble,.  and  commenced 
my  labors  drilling  the  whole  regiment.  The  officers  insisted 
upon  my  going  to  the  front  with  them,  assuring  me  that  I  should 
receive  the  same  pay  and  fare  that  they  received  from  govern- 
ment. I  decided  to  go  with  the  regiment  and  instruct  them, 
and  share  with  them  the  fortunes  of  war.  I  intended  to  have 
enlisted  and  be  mustered  in  with  the  rest  of  them.  I  got  a  pass 
from  the  colonel  to  spend  a  couple  of  days  with  my  family  at 
Biddeford,  and,  while  at  home,  orders  came  from  Washington  to 
march  at  once,  and  the  regiment  was  mustered  in  before  I  reached 
the  camp,  which  accounts  for  my  name  not  appearing  on  the 
muster-roll  as  an  enlisted  soldier,  which  afterwards  proved  most 
unfortunate  for  me,  as  will  appear  hereafter.  On  getting  news 
that  orders  had  come  to  go  to  the  front,  I  hastened  back  to 
camp,  accompanied  by  my  good  wife  and  little  boy.  As  the 
regiment  had  no  drum-major,  I  assumed  the  position,  and  we 
broke  camp,  and  came  into  Portland,  my  wife  and  boy  trudging 
along  by  my  side. 


THE  PARTING  SCENE  AT  THE  DEPOT.  183 

When  coming  over  Bramhall  hill  we  met  an  old  man,  who 
gave  me  the  first  meal  of  victuals  after  my  escape  from  the  Eng- 
lish army  into  the  States.  The  poor  old  fellow  threw  up  his 
hands  and  cried  right  out,  and  said,  'Sergeant  Ambler, you  are 
gone,  you  are  gone,  you'll  never  come  back,'  and  this  set  wife 
and  boy  to  crying,  and  I  confess  to  a  rising  in  my  throat  that 
made  me  a  little  uneasy;  but  I  hushed  them  as  well  as  I  could, 
and  told  them  God  would  take  care  of  me  wherever  I  went; 
but  it  was  pretty  hard.  Civilians  often  have  witnessed  these 
partings;  but  they  cannot  know  anything  of  the  emotions  that 
heave  the  heart  of  the  husband  and  father,  when  he  is  leaving 
wife  and  children  for  the  field  of  carnage.  I  had  seen  such 
parting  scenes  in  the  old  world ;  but  when  I  sailed  away  from 
old  England  for  the  Mediterranean,  I  was  a  poor  orphan,  caring 
for  nobody  and  nobody  cared  for  me,  and  I  could  not  realize 
anything  of  the  anguish  that  wrings  the  husband  and  father's 
heart  until  now.  I  was  trying  to  comfort  wife,  but  I  needed 
ten  men  to  keep  the  lumps  down  in  my  throat.  It  is  said,  mis- 
ery loves  company ;  but  I  don't  believe  it,  for  there  were  hun- 
dreds of  friends  following  their  dear  ones  to  the  depot,  and  it 
only  made  me  feel  worse  to  see  so  many  crying  around  us.  Lit- 
tle did  we  know  who  the  angel  of  death  was  fluttering  over, 
and  who  were  shaking  hands  for  the  last  time,  to  meet  no  more 
until  Gabriel's  trumpet  calls  us  to  judgment.  The  command 
came,  'All  aboard,'  and  the  Sixth  Maine  Volunteers  rolled  out 
of  the  depot  for  the  seat  of  war,  while  the  women  and  chilch-en 
were  throwing  kisses  after  us,  and  waving  good-by  with  their 
handkerchiefs.  Nothing  of  interest  occurred  until  we  arrived 
in  New  York,  where  we  halted  without  leaving  the  steamer. 

*  O 

A  brief  speech  was  made,  and  a  beautiful  silk  banner  was  pre- 
sented by  the  sons  of  Maine.  Colonel  Knowles  responded.  We 
then  proceeded  to  Philadelphia,  where  a  splendid  collation 
awaited  us,  of  which  the  boys  partook,  with  many  a  hearty 
'God  bless  the  Quaker  city.' 

We  took  the  cars  at  Philadelphia,  and  proceeded  by  the  way 


184  POISONING  A  T  HA  VRE-DE-GRACE. 

of  Havre-de-grace,  where  wo  were  delayed  several  hours.  At 
this  place,  a  baker  attempted  to  poison  us  by  putting  ground 
glass  in  the  cakes  and  pies  which  he  sold  us.  None  of  the  men 
died  from  its  effects,  although  some  of  them  were  severely  in- 
jured. I  had  swallowed  several  mouth-fulls  before  I  detected 
it  by  crunching  it  with  my  teeth.  I  spit  it  into  my  hand,  and 
rubbed  it  in  my  fingers,  and  cut  them  with  the  fine  particles  of 
glass,  and  could  see  them  in  my  hand.  I  showed  it  to  Captain 
Snowman,  who  ran  out  and  gave  the  alarm.  One  of  the  boys, 
in  attempting  to  get  past  the  guard,  to  get  at  the  baker,  caught 
his  coat-sleeve  on  the  cock  of  the  gun,  and  the  piece  went  off 
and  shot  him  just  below  the  left  nipple.  I  took  him  into  a 
house  and  got  him  into  a  bed.  Hu  told  me  what  he  wanted 
said  to  his  friends,  and  how  he  died.  I  said  to  him,  you  are 
not  going  to  die.  You  are  not  in  half  so  much  danger  now  as 
we  are,  who  have  been  eating  glass ;  but  I  was  mistaken.  We 
stripped  him  and  found  the  ball  had  passed  through  him,  and 
he  died  in  a  few  minutes.  The  boys  were  desperate.  They 
found  the  bake-shop  and  the  machine  that  he  ground  the  glass 
with.  They  captured  the  rebel  scamp  and  he  got  away,  and 
while  pursued,  one  of  the  regulars  shot  him  through  the  back 
and  killed  him  on  the  spot.  The  whole  regiment  loaded  up  to 
be  ready  for  any  event.  We  soon  were  rolling  on  for  Baltimore. 
We  marched  through  that  rebel  city  in  full  expectation  that 
blood  would  run  before  we  got  through.  The  colonel  ordered 
me  to  the  center  of  the  regiment,  to  help  protect  the  flag  as  it 
was  borne  aloft.  The  plug-uglies  were  on  the  sides  of  the 
street  with  bowie-knives,  some  of  them  drawn ;  but  the  rascals 
saw  by  the  white  of  our  eyes  that  we  meant  business,  and  no 
violence  was  offered.  We  reached  Washington  late  at  night, 
July  19th,  and  no  preparations  had  been  made  to  'fodder  the 
flock,'  and  our  haversacks  were  troubled  with  the  contribution- 
box  disease,  viz.,  a  terrible  emptiness.  We  were  quartered  in 
an  old  hall  where  we  laid  down  our  weary  limbs  on  the  soft 
side  of  a  hard  floor,  where  we  spent  a  sleepless  night  with 


SCENES  CONNECTED  WITH  BULL  BUN.  185 

e.npty  stomachs.  The  next  morning,  afW  a  lunch  of  bread 
and  coffee,  we  took  up  our  line  of  march  for  Chain  bridge.  For 
some  reason,  some  of  our  baggage-wagons  did  not  arrive,  so 
that  when  we  got  there,  about  half  of  our  men  had  to  sleep  on 
the  ground  or  under  the  bushes,  anywhere  they  could  get. 

In  the  morning,  we  were  awakened  by  the  roar  of  cannon 
in  the  direction  of  Mannasas  Junction  and  Bull  Run.  All 
through  the  day,  heavy  cannonading  was  going  on.  At  night 
a  courier  arrived  with  dispatches,  telling  us  that  our  troops  had 
been  routed,  and  the  rebels  were  in  full  pursuit  in  the  direction 
of  our  camp.  This  made  the  boys'  eyes  stick  out,  for  it  looked 
1  ke  business.  Immediately  company  H.  were  hurried  across 
tha  Potomac  to  go  on  picket-duty.  The  next  morning  the 
straggling  hosts  began  to  arrive.  In  no  part  of  the  world  did  I 
ever  see  such  a  sight.  Some  of  them  were  black  as  negroes, 
smutty,  and  stained  with  blackberries  upon  which  the  poor  fel- 
lows had  fed  coming  through  the  woods.  Some  with  every  bit 
of  their  shirts  above  their  breeches  entirely  torn  off,  or  hanging 
in  shreds  about  them.  Some  old  soldiers  that  had  fought  at 
Sevastopol,  were  crying  with  rage  and  sorrow  like  little  chil- 
dren, and  I  cried  myself  on  meeting  them  in  this  terrible  plight, 
and  could  not  help  it.  Oh,  it  was  a  sad  day  for  the  Union  army, 
and  the  country.  I  picked  up  two  Zouaves,  and  helped  them 
into  camp,  who  had  been  wounded.  One  had  a  terrible  wound 
in  the  thigh  from  a  bayonet,  and  the  other  with  a  ball  in  the  leg. 
I  saw  our  surgeon  extract  the  ball,  and  also  a  piece  of  his  pants 
that  had  been  carried  into  the  flesh  with  it.  Others  were  re- 
treating towards  Washington.  The  roads  were  blockaded  with 
baggage  wagons,  ambulances,  artillery,  and  all  the  paraphernalia 
of  war.  One  very  tall  man  from  the  same  place  thcit  I  came 
from,  run  his  poor  horse  until  he  came  to  the  blockade,  and 
leaped  off,  and  with  every  particular  hair  standing  on  end, 
rushed  over  broken  carts,  dying  horses,  and  every  incumbrance, 
and  reached  the  capital  long  before  his  horse  could  arrive,  as  I 
was  told.  The  scene  of  that  disaster  beggars  all  description,  and 


186        THROWING  THE  PLANK  OFF  CHAIN  BRIDGE. 

God  grant  my  eyes  may  never  witness  another  such.  The  van- 
ity of  some  of  our  shoulder-strapped  gentry  met  a  terrible  re- 
buff, and,  in  truth,  I  must  say  that  the  attempt  of  some  of  them 
to  lay  that  Bull  Run  defeat  on  the  men,  showed  an  unfairness 
not  warranted  by  facts.  For  some  of  these  raw  officers  showed 
about  as  much  fitness  to  command  armies  as  a  toad  does  for  the 
duties  of  a  plenipotentiary.  Another,  and  painful  illustration 
of  the  need  of  such  instruction  as  I  had  been  so  long  endeavor- 
ing to  impart  without  remuneration,  with  the  single  hope  of  ren- 
dering some  aid  to  my  adopted  country  in  her  time  of  need. 

The  Sixth  Maine  was  the  only  regiment  at  this  time  at  Chain 
bridge,  and  our  duty  was  to  hold  it  and  prevent  the  victorious^ 
rebels  from  entering  Washington  in  this  direction.  We  had  a 

o  o 

whole  company  thrown  across  the  Potomac,  several  miles  out 
on  picket,  to  give  notice  of  the  approach  of  the  enemy.  Cap- 
tain Mott's  battery  was  stationed  on  the  bluff,  commanding  the 
bridge,  so  as  to  rake  the  enemy  on  their  approach.  I  suggested 
to  Captain  Mott  that  a  cavalry,  dashing  at  full  speed,  might 
effect  a  crossing,  and  we  had  better  take  up  every  other  plank 
on  the  bridge,  and  this  would  not  hinder  our  troops  from  using 
it,  and  we  could  mow  down  all  the  rebs  they  could  crowd  on  to 
it  on  foot,  with  our  grape  and  canister.  Colonel  Burnham  and 
Captain  Mott  ordered  every  other  plank  taken  up  and  thrown 
into  the  Potomac,  which  was  done  by  our  men  in  double-quick. 
That  relieved  us  from  any  fear  from  the  enemy's  cavalry. 
There  was  a  large  brick  building  at  the  end  of  the  bridge,  on 
the  Virginia  side,  that  might  serve  as  a  cover  for  the  rebels  on 
their  approach,  to  which  \ve  paid  our  compliments.  The  bat- 
tery, with  solid  shot  and  shell,  plowed  through  the  walls,  tear- 
ing away  the  brick  and  stone,  until  it  came  down  with  a  crash. 
We  remained  in  possession  of  tho  bridge  for  some  three  weeks 
before  we  crossed  in  force  into  Virginia.  About  every  night 
the  alarm  was  sounded,  and  these  shrill  blasts  of  the  bugle, 
ringing  out  on  the  night-air,  would  bring  us  to  our  feet  in  a 


SPORT  WITH  THE  CHAPLAIN.  187 

trice ;  but  the  enemy  did  not  appear  in  force.  The  alarms  were 
occasioned  by  the  firing  of  some  rebel  scouts  at  some  of  our 
pickets.  This  business  was  much  harder  for  me  than  if  we  had 
been  in  battle.  Our  officers  and  men  were  feverish  with  anxie- 
ty to  get  on  in  their  drill,  and  I  made  long  days  drilling  them 
in  the  broadsword  and  bayonet  exercise,  which  every  military 
man  understands  is  the  hardest  work  done.  Part  of  the  time 
on  picket  in  addition  to  this,  and  then  sleeping  on  the  ground 
after  such  exercise  through  the  day,  stiffened  me  up,  and 
brought  me  a  good  deal  under  the  weather.  "We  were  hard  up 
for  grub,  and  suffered  a  good  deal  from  the  diarrhoea,  brought 
on  by  eating  such  green  stuff  as  we  could  pick  up  in  the  fields, 
small  fruits,  crab  apples,  etc.  One  Sunday  our  good  chaplain 
preached  us  a  very  touching  sermon,  telling  us  that  the  Sixth 
Maine  were  the  greatest  cursors,  the  greatest  swearers,  and  the 
greatest  thieves  on  God's  footstool.  During  the  following  week 
I  went  to  him  and  told  him  I  was  starving  hungry,  and  I  must 
have  some  bread  if  I  had  to  steal  it ;  and  I  told  him  I  would 
get  some  bread,  if  he  would  get  some  meat,  and  we  would  have 
one  good  meal.  He  said  he  would  do  it.  I  went  to  an  old 
Dutch  woman's,  and  told  her  I  wanted  bread ;  she  said  she  had 
none.  I  told  her  I  didn't  believe  it,  and  if  she  would  not  give 
it  to  me  I  would  take  it ;  and  she  gave  me  two  Johnny  cakes, 
and  I  trotted  back  to  camp,  and  found  the  chaplain  had  got  five 
or  six  pounds  of  beef.  I  asked  him  how  he  got  it,  and  he  said 
it  was  none  of  my  business  where  he  got  it.  I  told  him  that  if 
God  spared  my  life  to  get  back  to  the  State  of  Maine,  I  would 
tell  them  how  the  reverend  gentleman  stole  beef  down  in  Vir- 
ginia. 

He  said,  'Ambler,  if  you  do  I  will  horsewhip  you.'  You  had 
better  believe,  dear  reader,  that  meat  and  bread  tasted  good,  if 
the  minister  did  steal  it.  About  eight  years  after  this,  I  met 
the  parson  in  Portland,  and  sung  out  to  him,  'there  goes  the 
chaplain  that  stole  the  beef  in  Virginia,'  and  he  jumped  right 
out  of  his  wagon  and  horse- whipped  me  up  Exchange  street,  and 


1&8  THE  SCRIPTURAL  EXCUSE. 

that  squared  our  accounts.  We  have  both  kept  our  word  like 
good  honest  men  that  we  are. 

I  hope  nobody  will  think  either  of  us  the  worse  for  this,  for 
we  did  it  on  the  same  principle  that  the  disciples  did  when 
they  'began  to  pluck  the  ears  of  corn  and  to  eat.'  When  the 
Pharisees  saw  it,  they  said  'Behold  thy  disciples  do  that  which 
is  not  lawful  to  do  on  the  Sabbath  day.'  The  Master  said  unto 
them,  'Have  ye  not  read  what  David  did  when  he  was  a  hun- 
gered, and  they  that  were  with  him.  How  he  entered  into  the 
house  of  God,  and  did  eat  the  shew-bread  which  was  not  law- 
ful for  him  to  eat,  neither  for  those  which  were  with  him?  Or 
have  ye  not  read  in  the  law,  how  that  on  the  Sabbath  days  the 
priests  in  the  temple  profane  the  Sabbath  and  are  blameless  ? ' 

There,  brother  T ,  have  I  not  been  pretty  good  to  you,  after 

my  horse-whipping,  to  make  such  a  strong  apology  for  your 
hooking  the  beef? 

But  to  return  to  the  thread  of  our  discourse,  as  the  preach- 
ers say ;  notwithstanding  my  hard  work,  I  was  on  the  look-out 
for  everything  that  looked  suspicious,  and  in  reconnoitering  down 
the  river  one  day,  I  discovered  some  works  thrown  up  by  the 
rebels  preparatory  for  mounting  a  battery  during  the  night, 
about  one  mile  below  Chain  bridge,  on  the  Virginia  side  on  a 
high  bluff.  I  immediately  notified  Colonel  Burnham,  who  sent 
a  squad  of  men  over  the  bridge  to  look  after  them.  The  rebels 
fled  on  the  approach  of  our  men.  One  Sunday  Lieutenant  Fur- 
long and  myself  started  for  Arlington,  on  the  Virginia  side,  to 
see  them  operate  the  balloons,  while  reconnoitering  with  them. 
As  we  were  trudging  along  through  a  piece  of  woods,  I  stopped 
to  light  my  pipe,  and  the  lieutenant  got  on  a  little  distance 
ahead,  when  a  small  squad  of  rebels  rushed  upon  him,  and  would 
have  captured  him  if  it  had  not  been  for  his  wonderful  presence 
of  mind.  He  sung  out  at  the  top  of  his  voice, '  Come  on,  boys, 
here  they  are,'  and  they  took  to  their  heels  for  dear  life.  I  ran 
to  see  what  was  to  pay,  and  they  were  just  disappearing  over 
the  hilL  That  was  what  I  called  a  good  Yankee  trick.  In  a 


SKIKMISII   WITH   THE  ENEMY.  189 

day  or  two  after  this,  General  McLellan  came  up  to  reconnoiter, 
and  gave  his  horse  into  my  charge,  and  went  over  Chain  bridge 
on  foot  to  take  a  view  of  things,  and  when  lie  came  back,  lie 
called  for  three  hundred  men  to  go  into  Virginia  on  a  scout.  I 
asked  the  general  if  I  could  go  with  them.  He  said,'  certainly? 
and  I  gave  the  horse  again  into  his  charge  to  go  on  the  scout. 
He  made  us  a  neat  speech  at  the  bridge,  and,  giving  him  three 
rousing  cheers,  we  started.  We  had  been  perhaps  a  half  an 
hour  in  Virginia,  when  the  boys  commenced  firing;  but  what 
the  brave  fellows  saw  to  shoot  I  never  knew,  for  I  did  not  sec 
a  reb.  Nothing  resulted  from  this  tramp,  and  we  returned  to 
camp. 

A  few  days  after  this,  our  pickets  found  the  rebels  throwing 
up  some  works  near  a  place  called  Langly,  about  five  miles  from 
Chain  bridge.  Lieutenant  Fitzgerald,  accompanied  by  Captain 
Mott's  battery,  marched  at  once  upon  them,  and  a  brisk  skir- 
mish commenced.  Captain  Mott  opened  upon  them  with  some 
of  his  heavy  guns.  The  rebels  returned  the  fire  from  some  of 
their  pieces  which  they  had  got  in  position ;  but  our  fire  was 
too  hot  for  them,  and  they  commenced  their  retreat,  leaving 
several  of  their  dead  on  the  field.  Some  of  our  men  were 
wounded,  but  none  of  them  killed.  As  soon  as  AVC  had  routed 
them  effectually,  and  sent  them  skedaddling  up  the  Lewinsville 
road,  orders  were  given  to  limber  up  and  return  to  the  other 
side  of  the  Potomac.  I  felt  considerable  interest  in  the  success 
of  Mott's  battery,  as  I  had  something  to  do  with  drilling  a  por- 
tion of  them,  and  one  of  the  gunners  (named  Charlie  Lynch) 
was  an  Englishman  who  had  been  in  my  company  in  the  English 
army,  and  so  I  asked  the  lieutentant  how  Charlie  behaved  un- 
der fire.  'Oh,'  said  he,  'he.  fought  like  a  tiger.' 

Very  soon  after  this,  General  McLellan  sent  orders  not  to  fire 
a  gun,  as  preparations  were  going  on  for  the  whole  army  to 
move  into  Virginia,  and  when  everything  was  in  readiness  for 
the  Union  army  to  march,  the  firing  of  a  cannon  was  to  be  the 
signal. 


190  THE  FIRST  PRATER-MEETING. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

AT  this  point,  while  the  reader  is  waiting  for  our  regiment  Ho 
move  on  the  enemy's  works,'  I  will  give  some  of  the  religious 
history  of  the  Sixth  Maine  Volunteers  while  at  Chain  bridge. 
As  a  Christian,  I  felt  as  though  we  ought  to  find  enough  among 
us,  who  meant  to  serve  the  Lord,  to  make  up  a  goodly  number 
for  a  prayer-meeting,  and  so  about  the  fourth  day  after  we  ar- 
rived at  Chain  bridge,  I  proposed  to  hold  a  prayer-meeting  in 
the  evening,  to  begin  at  early  candle-lighting;  and  went  through 
the  streets  of  the  camp  and  notified  them  that  I  would  hold  a 
prayer-meeting  under  a  big  elm  tree  within  the  lines.  When 
the  evening  came,  I  took  my  Bible  and  went  out  to  the  old 
tree,  and  out  of  about  eleven  hundred  men,  five  or  six  only 
came  to  the  prayer-meeting.  I  told  brother  Strout,  one  of  the 
privates  present,  that  we  had  enough  to  claim  the  blessing.  I 
stuck  a  bayonet  into  an  old  limb  which  was  broken  off  the  side 
of  the  tree,  and  put  a  candle  in  the  socket,  by  the  light  of  which 
I  read  a  portion  of  God's  word,  and  then  called  on  good  broth- 
er S to  pray,  and  I  tried  to  pray  also.  God  blessed  us  both, 

and  I  tried  to  talk  to  them.  No  others  took  any  part  this  first 
night.  I  gave  notice  that  we  would  have  a  meeting  at  the 
same  place  the  next  night,  and  soon  as  I  got  through  with  the 
drill  I  would  go  throughout  the  camp  and  give  notice  of  it. 
So  as  soon  as  I  dismissed  the  men  from  the  drill  the  next  after- 
noon, I  went  all  round  and  notified  them,  and  to  make  sure  of 
a  congregation,  I  told  them  if  they  did  not  come  to  the  prayer- 
meeting  I  would  not  drill  them.  I  think  I  had  over  four  hun- 
dred the  next  night.  We  used  the  old  bayonet  again  for  a  can- 
dlestick, and  I  read  God's  word,  and  the  Holy  Ghost  fell  on  us, 


SECOND  MEETING  BETTER  STILL.  191 

and  it  was  one  of  the  best  prayer-meetings  I  ever  was  in.  Some 
backsliders  confessed,  and  a  number  got  up  and  asked  for  pray- 
ers. One  backslider  told  us  he  had  praying  parents  down  on 
the  old  Penobscot  liver;  that  he  had  gone  against  them  and  hurt 
their  feelings  often;  that  he  had  once  known  the  way  and  wick- 
edly backslidden,  and  wanted  us  to  pray  for  him.  He  said,  'we 
are  now  facing  the  rebels  and  can  almost  see  them  eye  to  eye, 
and  if  he  was  shot  down,  he  wanted  to  be  prepared  to  meet  his 
God.'  And  he  came  out  happy;  he  said  he  never  was  so  happy 
in  his  life.  He  was  a  great  help  to  the  meetings,  and  proved 
faithful  during  my  stay  with  the  regiment.  Oh,  it  was  a  glori- 
ous meeting;  they  cried  and  shouted  for  joy.  Yes,  you  dear, 
easy,  old  Christian,  in  your  carpeted  church,  with  your  great 
organ,  and  splendid  choir,  and  big  sermon,  you  never  had  a 
better  meeting,  with  all  your  rich  surroundings,  than  we  did 
with  the  green  earth  for  our  floor,  and  the  starry  canopy  of 
heaven  over  our  heads  for  a  roof,  and  the  dim  old  candle  shed- 
ding its  faint  glimmer  around.  There  was  an  awfulness,  a 
grandeur,  a  wonderful  glory  that  fell  on  us  in  melting  power, 
producing  such  a  nearness  to  God  as  many  had  never  before 
known.  These  were  the  first  prayer-meetings  held  in  the  army, 
and  I  had  rather  have  the  honor  of  instituting  such  a  work  than 
all  the  honors  of  wealth  and  ease.  The  next  night  I  gave  the 
same  notice  after  drill,  and  our  numbers  increased,  and  the  pow- 
er of  God  was  with  us.  On  the  fourth  evening,  our  chaplain 
came  in  with  us,  or  rather  up  to  the  tree  with  us,  and  God  spoke 
to  us  under  the  bush,  if  not  out  of  it,  and  the  chaplain  got  up 
and  said,  'the  Spirit  of  God  is  with  you;'  and  I  said,  'amen,'  and 
brother  Strout  shouted  'hallelujah'  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  and 
our  chaplain  poured  out  the  truth  among  us  with  greater  power 
than  I  ever  heard  him  before.  It  was  easy  to  speak.  The  wa- 
ters were  troubled  and  hearts  were  in  the  mood  to  hear,  and  so 
hungry  for  this  manna  from  heaven  that  they  seemed  to  eat 
every  word,  as  though  tbqy  felt  it  was  God's  bread  fresh  from 
heaven.  And  now,  so  much  of  the  Holy  Ghost  was  with  us, 


A  HARD  SIGHT. 

that  our  good  chaplain  could  discount  considerable  from  the 
statements  he  made  about  us  the  first  Sunday  here. 

He  began  to  see  there  was  amongst  us  some  wheat  as  well  as 
chaff,  and  that  we  were  not  all '  the  greatest  curses  and  thieves 
on  God's  footstool,'  and  of  those  who  were  a  little  off  the  track 
then,  there  was  hope  if  the  good  work  went  on.  Our  meetings 
continued  to  increase  in  numbers  and  interest,  until  a  large 
part  of  the  regiment  that  was  not  on  picket  duty  would  be  pres- 
ent, and  quite  a  number  were  converted,  and  a  good  number  of 
backsliders  were  reclaimed.  I  was  gloriously  rewarded  for  the 
extra  efforts  I  had  made.  I  often  drilled  eight  companies  in 
the  bayonet  and  skirmish  exercise  in  a  day,  besides  twenty  offi- 
cers, giving  them  each  separate  lessons  in  the  broadsword  exer- 
cises, and  then,  after  attending  prayer-meetings,  sometimes 
would  go  out  on  picket  with  the  boys  to  spend  the  night;  so 
you  will  see,  ray  reader,  that  I  eat  no  idle  bread. 

There  was  one  little  incident  that  occurred  while  here  that 
touched  me.  One  poor  fellow  was  drowned  in  the  canal,  and 
was  brought  up  and  laid  close  to  my  tent,  all  covered  with  mud, 
and  the  flies  were  eating  out  his  eyes  and  in  his  ears.  I  told  the 
nurse  (a  good  lady  from  Boston)  that  I  knew  he  was  a  poor  for- 
eigner, and  I  was  afraid,  if  I  should  die  or  be  killed,  that  that 
was  the  way  I  might  be  left  in  the  filth,  with  the  flies  and  mag- 
gots eating  my  poor  body.  She  said, '  no,  drill-master,  I  will 
see  to  it  myself,'  and  she  went  and  washed  the  poor  fellow  all 
up  clean,  and  then  put  our  new  silk  flag  over  him.  I  looked  on 
him  after  this  good  Samaritan  had  laid  him  out,  with  the  flag 
lying  on  his  manly  breast,  and  I  said,  'it  is  enough,  I  am  con- 
tent.' 

Coming  back  now  to  the  movements  of  the  regiment  into 
Virginia,  I  will  begin  with  the  visit  of  President  Lincoln  to  our 
camp,  accompanied  by  Secretary  Chase  and  Charles  Sumner. 
I  was  drilling  some  of  the  officers  in  the  broadsword  exercise 
when  the  president  arrived,  who  seemed  to  take  great  interest 
in  it,  and  clapped  me  on  the  shoulder,  and  laughed  and  said, 


CATCHING  THE  SPY.  193 

'that  is  very  well  done,  very  well  done.'  After  the  president 
had  gone  to  see  Captain  Mott's  battery,  Lieutenant  Furlong 
stepped  up  to  me  and  said,  'that  compliment  from  the  president 
is  a  feather  in  your  cap,  drill-master.' 

On  the  arrival  of  the  president  and  suite  to  the  battery,  Cap- 
tain Mott  fired  a  salute.  The  good  president,  after  examining 
our  position,  etc.,  talked  with  the  soldiers,  taking  many  of  them 
by  the  hand  and  speaking  to  them  and  encouraging  them  to  be 
true  to  the  flag,  and  seemed  like  a  father  amongst  his  children. 
The  president  left  amidst  the  cheers  of  the  whole  camp.  The 
firing  of  the  salute  was  taken  as  a  signal  along  the  lines  for 
moving  into  Virginia,  on  account  of  the  previous  orders  not  to 
fire,  and  it  made  considerable  confusion ;  but  things  were  soon 
explained  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  general,  and  Captain  Mott 
was  excused  for  this  little  blunder.  A  day  or  two  after  this,  a 
negro  who  was  employed  to  cook  for  some  of  the  boys  belong- 
ing to  Mott's  battery  on  the  Virginia  side  of  the  Potomac,  saw 
a  man  near  the  cook's  tent  that  he  knew,  and  sung  out  to  him, 
'How  are  you,  Massa?'  The  man  scowled  upon  him  and  said, 
'  Cuffee,  you  don't  know  me.'  '  Yes,  Massa,  I  knows  you,  de 
Lor'  bless  you,  Massa;  you  specs  I  din  know  you,  when  dis 
here  chile  help  you  build  de  battery  at  Manassas  Junction  ? 
golly,  Massa,  dis  chile  spec's  you  done  gone  to  de  wrong  place.' 
The  boys  began  to  smell  a  rat,  and  seized  him  and  took  him  to 
General  Smith's  head-quarters.  I  met  him  when  the  boys  were 
bringing  him  over  Chain  bridge  and  said  to  him,  'Well,  old 

O         O  O  *  ' 

boy,  we've  got  you.'  I  never  saw  a  man  look  so  savage  as  he 
did  at  me,  and  he  swore  like  an  old  pirate.  I  told  him  the  old 
darkey  was  too  sharp  for  him  to  come  prowling  round  our  camp. 
On  stripping  him  they  found  a  complete  plan  of  all  our  works 
sewed  up  in  one  side  of  his  vest,  and  the  poor  old  rebel  was 
afterwards  hung  as  a  spy,  I  suppose.  On  the  picket  line  a  good 
many  rebel  prisoners  were  taken  by  our  boys  and  brought  in  ; 
sometimes  as  many  as  twenty  or  thirty  in  a  day. 

My  labors  were  intense  about  this  time,  and  the  weather  was 
13 


194  GETTING  SUN-STRUCK. 

very  hot.  One  day  I  had  drilled  several  companies, 
through  it  practically,  and  then  with  the  colonel  crossed  tho 
Potomac  and  went  on  to  the  picket  line,  and  had  a  long  tramp 
reconnoitering,  and  then  came  back  to  camp  in  the  hottest  part 
of  the  day.  I  found,  on  my  return,  that  some  of  the  officers  of 
the  Vermont  regiment  had  called  for  me  for  a  drill  in  the  bay- 
onet exercise.  I  went  out  to  drill  them  with  a  Zouave  cap  on 
my  head,  and  gave  them  instructions,  explaining  and  then  go- 
ing through  the  exercise ;  and  while  at  it  I  was  sun-struck,  and 
fell  to  the  ground.  I  knew  nothing  for  some  time,  and  when  I 
came  to  myself  there  was  a  crowd  around  me  who  thought  I 
was  dead.  I  felt  strangely,  and  put  my  hand  to  my  head  and 
took  hold  of  my  cap  to  pull  it  off,  and  all  the  hair  came  off  the 
top  of  my  head  with  my  cap.  When  Colonel  Burnham  found 
me  in  this  condition,  he  sent  me  to  Washington,  to  the  care  of 
Hon.  D.  E.  Somes,  our  representative  from  Maine,  where  I  was 
kindly  treated  until  I  was  able  to  return  to  the  field. 

When  I  was  on  my  way  to  Mr.  Somes'  I  met  a  fellow  towns- 
man (James  Andrews)  whose  services  in  going  for  a  doctor  and 
medicine  will  ever  be  gratefully  remembered.  In  a  short  time,  I 
returned  to  the  regiment,  and  continued  my  labors  among  the 
officers  and  men,  whose  improvement  in  the  arts  of  war  was 
very  marked.  In  consulting  the  officers  of  the  regiment  and 
others,  it  was  decided  that  I  could  accomplish  ten  times  as 
much  for  the  country  in  returning  to  the  East,  and  giving  in- 
struction to  new  regiments  then  forming,  of  officers  and  men, 
as  it  was  possible  for  me  to  do  as  a  private  carrying  the  musket, 
especially  since  my  being  sun-struck ;  and  as  my  name  was  not 
on  the  muster-rolls, — the  reason  for  which  I  have  before  given, 
— there  would  be  nothing  in  the  way  of  my  doing  so.  I  had 
got  my  trunk  packed,  and  intended  to  bid  good-by  to  the  boys 
in  a  day  or  two,  when  orders  came  for  the  army  to  march  into 
Virginia.  I  resolved  to  go  with  them  into  this  fight.  After 
crossing  the  Potomac,  we  deployed  to  the  right  and  left,  and 
threw  up  what  was  afterwards  called  Fort  Ethan  Allen. 


BURNING   THE  WOODS.  195 

There  was  a  long  piece  of  woods  at  the  left  of  the  turnpike 
where  the  rebels  went  to  cover,  and  from  which  they  picked 
off  a  good  many  of  our  men.  These  woods  were  a  little  below 
Chain  bridge,  and  extended  several  miles. 

Orders  were  given  to  cut  down  this  forest,  and  thousands  of 
men  from  the  different  regiments  were  detailed  for  the  work. 
The  boys  worked  with  a  will,  and  in  an  incredibly  short  time 
we  had  the  fire  sweeping  over  thousands  of  acres.  The  smoke 
had  hardly  cleared  away  when  a  courier  arrived  with  dispatches, 
saying  that  the  enemy  were  upon  us  in  force,  and  our  pickets 
were  coming  in.  I  wanted  to  see  how  our  boys  would  behave 
under  fire,  and  I  resolved  to  go  with  them  and  share  with  them 
victory  or  defeat. 

Pretty  soon  our  pickets  began  to  come  in,  shouting  as  they 
arrived  on  the  double  quick,  '  The  rebels  are  upon  us ! '  The 
long  roll  was  beat,  calling  our  men  to  arms.  Some  of  our  men 
were  down  on  the  banks  of  the  Potomac,  getting  out  the  dead 
bodies  of  our  boys,  who  had  been  shot  by  the  rebs  and  thrown 
into  the  river. 

Colonel  Burnham  ordered  me  to  go  over  to  the  river  and 
rally  the  boys  there,  and  he  would  fall  in  the  regiment  and  be 
ready  to  march  on  my  return.  I  ran  as  fast  as  my  legs  would 
carry  me,  and  shouted  to  them  as  soon  as  I  got  in  hearing, 
'The  rebs  are  upon  us,  and  our  pickets  are  driven  in.  Now  is 
your  time  to  strike  for  your  country,  and  show  what  kind  of 
stuff  you  are  made  of.'  We  struck  a  bee-line  for  the  regiment. 
Passing  a  sentry,  I  seized  his  musket,  telling  him  to  get  another, 
and  sung  out  to  the  boys,  '  Now  men,  I  have  showed  you  the 
theory  of  war,  I  will  now  show  you  the  practical  part.'  They 
cheered  and  sung  out,  *  Bully  for  Ambler.'  The  regiment  had 
fallen  in  and  were  on  the  march  as  we  came  up.  I  rushed  up 
to  the  picket  line,  and  Captain  Mott's  battery  came  tearing 
along  with  twelve  horses  dragging  one  of  his  big  guns,  the 
others  following,  and  I  got  so  earnest  for  the  fray,  that  I  fell 
right  in  with  the  battery  and  rushed  with  them,  until  we  found 


19G  A  LITTLE  SELF-ADULATION. 

ourselves  face  to  face  with  the  enemy,  when  we  halted  and  un- 
limbered  for  action,  and  poure,!  in  our  fire  upon  the  rebel  troops 
and  some  of  his  cavalry,  our  big  gun  cutting  awful  gaps  in 
their  ranks.  For  two  hours  there  was  fighting  all  along  our 
lines,  until  we  routed  them.  How  many  were  killed  and  wound 
ed  we  never  knew. 

We  lost  some  men,  and  some  were  taken  prisoners.  We  then 
returned  to  camp  pretty  well  exhausted,  and  pretty  well  satis- 
fied with  our  day's  work.  Men  never  behaved  better  under  fire 
than  the  Sixth  Maine  Volunteers.  The  day  had  been  intensely 
hot.  At  night,  it  came  on  to  rain,  and  the  whole  regiment  had 
to  sleep  on  the  ground  in  the  mud  and  water.  Perhaps,  reader, 
you  may  think  Ambler  puts  himself  pretty  prominently  into 
this  picture.  Well,  if  you  think  I  am  egotistical,  you  shall 
see  what  an  eye  witness  had  to  say  about  it,  and  you  must  re- 
member, too,  that  I  am  writing  about  myself.  Here  is  what 
was  published  in  the  Boston  Journal  at  that  time,  referring  to 
this  event : 

SERGEANT  AMBLER. — The  following  extract  from  an  army 
letter,  contains  some  intelligence  of  a  gentleman  who  will  be 
remembered  by  many  in  this  city  as  an  accomplished  drill-mas- 
ter. He  has  been  connected  with  the  Sixth  Maine  Regiment 
as  an  instructor,  and  was  with  them  in  the  recent  reconnoisance 
on  Lewinsville.  He  writes  thus:  'Accompanying  the  Sixth 
Maine  Regiment  was  an  Englishman,  a  teacher  of  the  sword  ex- 
ercise, well-known  in  Boston  as  a  teacher  of  fencing  and  bayo- 
net exercise  (I.  W.  Ambler),  who  stands  at  the  head  of  his  pro- 
fession, and  has  won  the  esteem  of  the  whole  regiment  by  his 
active  and  energetic  disposition,  and  kind  and  generous  nature ; 
and  he  showed  himself  to  be  a  soldier,  not  only  in  theory  but 
in  reality.  Although  he  had  packed  his  trunk  and  made  all  due 
preparations  for  leaving  for  home,  his  term  of  engagement  hav- 
ing expired,  when  the  cannon  began  to  boom,  he  took  a  musket 
from  a  sentry,  and  marched  at  the  head  of  the  regiment,  saying, 


CAPT.  STRONG'S  ESCAPE.  197 

*  Come  on  boys,  now  is  the  time  to  show  whether  you  can  fight,' 
and  led  the  way  up  to  the  pickets  amid  the  cheers  of  the  reg- 
iment, and  cries  of  '  bully  for  Ambler.'  The  pervading  spirit 
of  the  troops  seems  to  be  an  eagerness  for  action,  prevailing  so 
powerfully,  that  even  the  sick  will  smuggle  themselves  into  the 
ranks  against  the  orders  of  the  physician.  With  such  a  spirit 
pervading  our  army,  what  may  we  not  expect  as  the  result  of 
the  war,  and  what  have  we  to  fear  ? ' 

No  better  fighting  was  done  during  the  war,  and  there  were 
instances  of  personal  valor  that  would  shed  a  lustre  on  the  old 
Spartan  days.  As  I  was  looking  out  for  stragglers  and  others 
who  had  got  separated  from  the  main  body  next  day,  I  met 
Captain  Win.  E.  Strong,  of  the  First  Wisconsin  Regiment, 
coming  in  covered  with  blood,  with  a  hole  shot  in  his  cheek. 
He  looked  every  inch  a  hero ;  a  strong,  manly  form,  only  twen- 
ty-two years  old,  who  had  rushed  from  College  to  the  battle- 
field. He  tells  his  own  story  better  than  I  can,  and  I  give  it 
here  as  he  gave  it. 

'  As  I  was  passing  through  a  thicket  I  was  surrounded  by  six 
rebel  soldiers,  four  infantry  and  two  cavalry;  seeing  I  was 
•caught,  I  thought  it  best  to  surrender  at  once,  so  I  said,  'Gen- 
tlemen, you  have  me.'  I  was  asked  various  questions  as  to  who 
I  was,  where  I  was  going,  to  what  regiment  I  belonged,  etc. 
all  of  which  I  refused  to  answer.  One  of  the  footmen  -said, 

'Let  us  hang  the  d d  Yankee  scoundrel,'  and  pointed  to  a 

convenient  limb.  Another  said,  *  No,  let  us  take  him  to  camp 
and  hang  him  there.'  One  of  the  cavalry,  who  seemed  to  be  the 
leader  said,  '  We'll  take  him  to  camp.'  They  then  marched  me 
through  an  open  place ;  two  footmen  in  front,  and  two  in  rear, 
and  a  cavalry  man  each  side  of  me.  I  was  armed  with  two  re- 
volvers and  a  sword.  After  going  some  twenty  rods,  the  ser- 
geant, who  was  on  my  right,  noticing  my  pistols,  commanded 
me  to  halt  and  give  them  up,  together  with  my  sword.  I  said, 
'certainly,  gentlemen,'  and  immediately  halted.  As  I  stopped 
they  all  filed  past  me,  and  of  course  were  in  front. 


198  CAPT.   STRONG'S  ESCAPE. 

*  We  were  at  this  time  in  an  open  part  of  the  woods,  but 
about  sixty  yards  to  the  rear  was  a  thicket  of  undergrowth. 
Thus  everything  was  in  my  favor.     I  was  quick  of  foot,  and  a 
passable  shot.    Yet  the  design  of  escape  was  not  formed  until 
I  brought  my  pistol  pouches  to  the  front  part  of  my  body,  and 
my  hand  touched  the  stocks.     The  grasping  my  pistols  sug- 
gested my  cocking  them  as  I  drew  them  out.    This  I  did,  and 
the  moment  I  got  command  of  them  I  shot  down  the  two  foot- 
men nearest  me,  about  six  feet,  one  with  each  hand,  and  ran 
for  the  thicket.     The  confusion  of  my  captors  was  so  great  that 
I  had  nearly  reached  cover  when  they  fired.     One  ball  passed 
through  my  left  cheek  and  out  of  my  mouth.     Another  musket 
ball  went  through  my  canteen.     The  two  cavalry  separated, 
one  to  my  right,  the  other  to  my  left,  to  cut  off  my  retreat. 
The  remaining  two  footmen  charging  directly  down  on  me.     I 
turned  and  fired  three  or  four  shots,  but  the  balls  flew  wild  and 
on  I  ran,  when  I  got  over  a  small  hillock  and  had  nearly  re- 
gained one  of  our  pickets,  I  was  headed  off  by  both  the  mounted 
men. 

*  The  sergeant  called  on  me  to  surrender.     I  gave  no  reply, 
but  fired  at  him,  and  ran  in  the  opposite  direction.     He  over- 
took me,  and  just  as  his  horse's  head  was  nearly  abreast  of  me, 
I  turned  and  took  good  aim  and  pulled  the  trigger,  but  the 
cap  snapped.    At  this  time  his  carbine  was  unslung,  and  hold- 
ing it  with  both  hands  on  the  left  side  of  his  horse,  he  fired  at 
my  breast  without  raising  the  piece  to  his  shoulder ;  and  the 
shot  passed  through  the  side  of  my  coat  and  shirt  just  grazing 
the  skin.     The  piece  was  so  near  as  to  burn  the  cloth  about 
the  size  of  one's  hand.    I  then  fired  at  him  and  brought  him 
to  the  ground,  hanging  by  his  foot  in  the  left  stirrup,  his  horse 
galloping  toward  his   camp.      I   saw  no  more  of  the   other 
horseman  on  my  left,  nor  of  the  footmen ;   but,  running  on, 
soon  came  to  our  pickets,  much  exhausted  from  my  exertions* 
and  loss  of  blood.' 

Sure  enough,  with  such  a  spirit  as  that  we  had  a  right  to  ex- 


SENTENCED   TO  BE  SHOT.  199 

poet  a  victory,  and  I  think  such  daring  should  be  written  in 
letters  of  gold,  and  I  say  '  Hurrah  for  Captain  Strong.' 

One  more  touching  incident,  of  which  I  was  an  eye-witness, 
and  with  which  I  had  something  to  do,  I  will  describe  before  I 
leave  the  front.  It  was  about  this  time  that  William  Scott,  a 
private  of  a  Vermont  regiment,  while  on  sentry  went  to  sleep ; 
and  in  this  condition  was  found,  and  taken  before  a  court-mar- 
tial, tried,  found  guilty,  and  was  sentenced  to  be  shot.  I  visit- 
ed the  poor  fellow  in  the  guard  tent,  and  said,  '  William,  I 
hope  God  has  prepared  you  for  the  awful  trial.'  He  was  deep- 
ly moved.  Tears  ran  down  his  sun-burnt  cheeks.  He  looked 
at  me  a  moment,  and  then  looked  up  to  heaven  and  said,  '  If 
it  is  God's  will  that  I  must  be  shot,  O  God,  thy  will  be  done! 
Drill-master  pray  for  me,  and  pray  for  me  in  your  meeting  to- 
night under  the  old  elm  tree.'  I  talked  to  him  as  well  as  I 
knew  how,  and  got  down  on  my  knees  by  his  side  and  prayed 
God  to  strengthen  him ;  but  my  heart  was  too  full  for  utter- 
ance, and  my  feelings  for  my  poor  comrade  found  vent  in  tears 
much  better  than  in  words.  We  had  his  case  mentioned  un- 
der the  tree  in  our  prayer- meeting,  and  there  were  many 
groans  and  tears  and  prayers  for  poor  Scott  that  night.  We 
knew  he  was  a  good  soldier,  and  never  would  have  slept  on 
his  post  if  he  had  not  been  exhausted  from  heavy  marching 
and  overwork.  When  the  day  came  for  him  to  be  shot,  orders 
were  given  for  twelve  muskets  to  be  placed  in  position,  six  of 
them  to  be  loaded  with  balls,  the  others  with  blanks,  and  all 
capped ;  and  twelve  men  were  detailed  for  the  painful  duty, 
each  to  select  his  gun,  so  that  neither  could  know  who  had 
shed  his  comrade's  blood.  The  men  filed  out,  six  on  each 
side  in  a  line,  and  William  Scott  in  the  centre.  I  took  my 
place  beside  him,  and  orders  were  given, — '  Attention,  forward 
march.'  As  I  walked  by  his  side  I  told  him  to  keep  up  good 
heart,  and  die  like  a  soldier  and  a  Christian.  He  held  the 
Testament  in  both  hands,  looking  down  on  it,  and  kept  turn- 
ing one  thumb  over  the  other.  I  wanted  to  see  if  Americans 


200  PARDONED   BY  PRESIDENT  LINCOLN. 

could  stand  up  to  be  shot  as  boldly  as  some  Europeans  had 
done.  I  had  seen  English  soldiers  kneel  on  their  coffins,  and 
open  their  bosoms  with  their  own  hands,  until  six  bullets 
pierced  them,  and  fall  headlong  in  their  coffins.  I  was  anxious 
that  William  should  stand  as  firm. 

When  we  reached  the  spot  where  my  comrade  was  to  die, 
all  the  regiments,  some  ten  thousand  men,  had  fallen  in  and 
formed  round  in  the  form  of  a  triangle,  its  open  point  looking 
off  into  Virginia,  opposite  which  William  stood.  I  stood  be- 
side him  when  his  crime  was  read  and  the  sentence  of  the 
court-martial  to  be  shot,  encouraging  him  to  put  his  trust  in 
God,  and  meet  death  like  a  man.  I  then  stepped  aside,  as  the 
twelve  men  were  getting  into  position  to  fire.  He  looked 
toward  the  open  space,  off  into  Virginia,  and  then  looked  at 
me  and  dropped  his  head.  At  this  moment  word  ran  along 
the  lines  that  a  horseman  was  seen  approaching,  waving  his 
sword  in  the  air.  He  dashed  up  to  the  lines,  his  horse  covered 
with  foam,  and  waving  his  sword  again,  handed  a  dispatch  to 
an  orderly,  who  passed  it  to  the  officer  in  charge.  He  opened 
it  with  a  trembling  hand,  and  with  a  more  tremulous  voice 
read  the  pardon  sent  by  President  Lincoln,  while  cheer  after 
cheer  rent  the  air  as  the  president  followed  rapidly  in  his 
coach.  When  the  word  pardon  fell  on  Scott's  ear  he  ran  to 
me  and  fell  on  my  neck  with  both  arms  around  me,  exclaim 
irig, '  I  am  saved.'  I  cried  like  a  baby,  and  could  not  help  it ; 
and  the  eyes  of  the  soldiers  filled  with  tears  as  they  cheered 
the  good  president  for  this  just  act  of  clemency,  and  full  well 
did  William  Scott  merit  it.  Most,  if  not  all  of  my  readers, 
have  read  of  William's  heroic  conduct  afterwards,  until  he  met 
his  death  on  the  field  of  battle,  gallantly  fighting  for  the 
Union. 


ODE  ON  SCOTT.  201 

THE  SLEEPING  SENTINEL. 

T'vasin  the  sultry  summer  time,  as  war's  red  records  show, 
When  patriot  armies  rose  to  meet  a  fratricidal  foe, 
When  from  the  North,  and  East,  and  West,  like  the  upheaving  sea, 
Swept  forth  Columbia's  sons  to  make  our  country  truly  free. 

Within  a  prison's  gloomy  walls  where  shadows  veiled  decay, 
In  fetters  on  a  heap  of  straw  a  youthful  soldier  lay, 
Heart-broken,  hopeless,  and  forlorn,  with  short  and  feverish  breath, 
He  waited  but  the  appointed  hour  to  die  a  culprit's  death. 

Yet,  but  a  few  brief  weeks  before,  untroubled  with  a  care, 

He  roamed  at  will  and  freely  drew  his  native  mountain  air, 

Where  sparkling  streams  leap  mossy  rocks,  from  many  a  woodland 

fount, 
And  waving  elms  and  grassy  slopes  give  beauty  to  Vermont. 

Without  a  murmur  he  endured  a  service  new  and  hard; 
But  wearied  with  a  toilsome  march,  it  chanced  one  night  on  guard 
He  sank  exhausted  at  his  post,  and  the  gray  morning  found 
His  prostrate  form,  a  sentinel  asleep  upon  the  ground. 

So  in  the  silence  of  the  night,  all  weary  on  the  sod 
Sank  the  disciples,  watching  near  the  suffering  Son  of  God ; 
Yet  Jesus,  with  compassion  moved,  beheld  their  heavy  eyes, 
And  though  betrayed  to  ruthless  foes,  forgiving,  bade  them  rise. 

But  God  is  love !    Finite  minds  can  faintly  comprehend 
But  gently  mercy  in  his  rule  may  with  stern  justice  blend. 
And  this  poor  soldier,  seized  and  bound,  found  none  to  justify, 
While  war's  inexorable  law  decreed  that  he  must  die. 

'Twas  morning.    On  a  tented  field  and  through  the  heated  haze 
Flashed  back  from  lines  of  burnished  steel  the  sun's  effulgent  blaze; 
While  from  a  sombre  prison-house,  seen  slowly  to  emerge, 
A  sad  procession  o'er  the  sward  moved  to  a  muffled  dirge. 

And  in  the  midst  with  faltering  step,  and  pale  and  anxious  face, 

In  manacles  between  two  guards  a  soldier  had  his  place. 

A  youth  led  out  to  die !    And  yet  it  was  not  death,  but  shame 

That  smote  his  gallant  heart  with  dread,  and  shook  his  manly  frame, 

Still  on  before  the  martialed  ranks  the  train  pursued  its  way, 
Up  to  the  designated  spot  whereon  a  coffin  lay. 
His  coffin  1    And  with  reeling  brain,  despairing,  desolate, 
He  took  his  station  by  its  side,  abandoned  to  his  fate. 


202  ODE  CONTINUED. 

There  came  across  his  wavering  sight  strange  pictures  in  the  air. 
He  saw  his  distant  mountain  home.    He  saw  his  mother  dear. 
He  saw  his  father,  bowed  with  grief  through  fast  declining  years. 
He  saw  a  nameless  grave,  and  then  the  vision  closed  in  tears. 

Yet  once  again,  in  double  file  advancing,  there  he  saw 

Twelve  comrades,  sternly  set  apart  to  execute  the  law; 

But  saw  no  more.     His  senses  swam,  deep  darkness  settled  round, 

And,  shuddering,  he  waited  now  the  fatal  volley's  sound! 

Then  suddenly  was  heard  the  noise  of  steeds  and  wheels  approach, 
And  rolling  through  a  cloud  of  dust  appeared  a  stately  coach. 
On  past  the  guards  and  through  the  field  its  rapid  course  was  bent, 
Till  halting  'mid  the  lines,  was  seen  the  nation's  president! 

He  came  to  save  that  stricken  soul,  now  waking  from  despair, 

And  from  a  thousand  voices  rose  a  shout  which  rent  the  air. 

The  pardoned  soldier  understood  the  tones  of  jubilee, 

And,  bounding  from  his  fetters,  blessed  the  hand  that  made  him  free. 

'Twas  spring.    Within  a  verdant  vale,  where  Warwick's  crystal  tide 
Reflected  o'er  its  peaceful  breast  fair  fields  on  either  side ; 
Where  birds  &nd  flowers  combined  to  cheer  a  sylvan  solitude, 
Two  threatening  armies,  face  to  face,  in  fierce  defiance  stood. 

A  sudden  shock,  which  shook  the  earth  'mid  vapors  dense  and  dim, 
Proclaimed  along  the  echoing  hills  the  conflict  had  begun. 
While  shot  and  shell  athwart  the  stream  with  fiendish  fury  sped, 
To  strew  among  the  li ving  lines  the  dying  and  the  dead.- 

Then  louder  than  the  raging  storm  pealed  forth  the  clear  command, 
Charge,  soldiers,  charge!    And  at  the  word,  with  shouts,  a  fearless 

band, 

Two  hundred  heroes  from  Vermont  rushed  onward  through  the  flood, 
And  upward,  o'er  the  rising  ground,  they  marked  their  way  in  blood. 

The  smitten  foe  before  them  fled  in  terror  from  his  post, 
While,  uusustained,  two  hundred  stand  to  battle  with  a  host  I 
Then  turning,  as  the  rallying  ranks  with  murderous  fire  replied, 
They  bore  the  fallen  o'er  the  field  and  through  the  purple  tide. 

The  fallen  I    And  the  first  who  fell,  in  that  unequal  strife, 
Was  he  whom  mercy  sped  to  save  when  justice  claimed  his  life. 
The  pardoned  soldier!  And  while  yet  the  conflict  raged  around, 
While  yet  his  life-blood  ebbed  away  through  every  gaping  wound, 


HOW  HIS  PARDON  WAS  OBTAINED.  203 

While  yet  his  voice  grew  tremulous,  and  death  bedimmed  his  eye, 
He  called  his  comrades  to  attest  he  had  not  feared  to  die. 
And,  with  his  last  expiring  breath,  a  prayer  to  Heaven  was  sent, 
That  God,  with  his  assisting  grace,  would  bless  our  president 

It  must  not  be  forgotten  how  his  pardon  was  obtained.  His 
sister,  hearing  of  his  sentence,  came  on  to  Washington,  and  on 
her  knees  pleaded  with  the  president  for  her  brother,  tell  ing  him 
that  her  brother  left  home  against  the  wishes  of  his  father  and 
mother,  all  glowing  with  patriotism,  determined  to  fight  for 
the  flag ;  that  his  father  was  a  minister,  and  that  shooting 
William  would  carry  her  father  and  mother  broken-hearted  to 
the  grave ;  and,  with  upturned  and  streaming  eyes,  saying, 
'  Dear  president,  spare,  oh  spare  my  poor  brother.' 


204  GOING  BACK  TO  MAINE. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 


AND  here  I  leave  the  boys  for  the  East,  to  help  blow  up  the 
the  Union  fii%e  there,  and  show  the  new  regiments  how  to  use 
the  implements  of  war.  Poor  fellows,  how  I  pitied  the  m,  lying 
in  the  corn-fields,  with  no  tents,  covering  themselves  with  corn- 
stalks, anything  to  keep  the  dews  and  night  winds  off;  often 
waking  up  to  find  it  raining  and  themselves  in  puddles  of  wa- 
ter; many  sick  with  diarrhoea.  It  was  the  hardest  time  of  the 
war.  Arrangements  had  not  been  perfected  for  the  comfort  and 
health  of  the  men,  everything  having  been  done  in  haste.  Reg- 
iments had  been  hurried  to  the  front  to  protect  the  capital,  with- 
out the  necessary  conveniences  with  them  to  make  their  condi- 
tion even  tolerable ;  but  such  are  the  fortunes  of  war.  But  I 
must  leave.  The  work  of  drilling  the  new  regiments  demanded 
my  attention,  and  my  motto  had  been,  'Help  the  country  any- 
where and  anyhow.'  I  had  now  been  toiling  some  seven 
months  without  pay,  and  when  I  left  the  boys  I  had  no  money 
to  get  home  with,  or  to  buy  rations  on  the  way.  When  •!  got 
to  Georgetown,  I  sold  my  watch  and  ring  to  get  something  to 
eat. 

When  I  got  to  Washington,  I  called  on  General  Scott,  to  see 
if  I  could  get  a  pass  to  Maine.  His  orderly  took  me  in  to 
see  him.  As  I  entered  his  room,  I  gave  him  the  military  salute. 
Well,'  said  General  Scott,  in  his  peculiar  military  short-hand, 
'what  do  you  want,  my  man?'  I  said,  'I  want  a  pass  to  go  to 
Maine.'  Then  the  general  said, '  What  are  you  doing,  sir,  at 
the  front  ? '  I  told  him  I  had  been  drilling  the  officers  and  men 
of  the  Sixth  Maine  Volunteers  and  some  others.  Said  he, 


A  PASS  FROM  SCOTT.  205 

1  Vhere  did  you  learn  your  drill  ? '  I  told  him, c  In  the  English 
a  my,  which  I  joined  in  1842.'  'Who  was  your  comraander-in- 
chief ? '  asked  Scott.  I  told  him  '  the  Duke  of  Wellington.' 
'Who,'  said  he,  'the  Iron  Duke,  ray  bosom  friend?  What  tac- 
tics are  you  drilling  in  ? '  I  told  him, '  Scott's  heavy  infantry, 
and  sometimes  in  light  infantry ;  but  I  had  been  drilling  mostly 
in  the  bayonet  and  broadsword  exercise,  and  the  skirmish  ex- 
ercise.' 

'  Well,'  said  the  general,  *  suppose  you  have  a  company  stand- 
ing at  "  attention  "  with  their  fire-arms,  explain  the  shoulder  of 
arms  to  me  in  common  time.'  I  said, '  at  the  word  "  shoulder  " 
is  only  a  caution ;  at  the  word  "  arms,"  the  fire-lock  must  be 
thrown,  in  one  motion,  and  with  as  little  appearance  of  effort  as 
possible,  into  its  proper  position  on  the  left  shoulder,  the  hand 
crossing  the  body  in  so  doing.  Stand  steady,  men.  Wait  for 
the  word  "  two."  At  the  word  "  two,"  drop  the  right  hand  as 
quick  as  possible  to  the  right  side.  Stand  steady,  men,  not  a 
move.'  'That  will  do,  that  will  do,'  said  the  old  general,  'here 
Mr. ,  go  with  this  soldier  to  Thomas  A.  Scott,  the  Secreta- 
ry of  War,  and  tell  him  to  give  this  man  a  pass  to  Maine  and 
back.  There  was  a  little  advantage  in  going  to  the  old  general, 
for  an  order  from  him  was  immediately  attended  to,  although 
there  were  about  the  office  of  the  secretary  several  hundred  ap- 
plicants ;  I  got  my  passes  without  a  question  or  delay.  It  is  a 
little  funny  that  I  was  recognized  by  the  war  department  for 
service  and  passes,  but  not  for  pay.  Here  is  one  of  the  passes 
from  the  Secretary  of  War : 

WAR  DEPARTMENT,         ) 
WASHINGTON,  Sept.  10,  1861.  ( 

AGENT  N.  H.  &  N.  L.  AND  STONINGTON  RAILROAD  Co.,  Boston. 
Please  furnish  Sergeant  Ambler,  Sixth  Regiment  Maine  Vol- 
unteers, with  passage  free  of  charge  to  him  from  Boston  to  New 
York,  on  government  account. 


206  TPBY  I  DID  NOT  GO  BACK. 

Relieved  from  duty  upon  certificate  of  Thomas  A.  Scott 
Cause, — returning  from  recruiting. 

By  order  of  the  Secretary  of  War, 

THOMAS  A.  SCOTT. 
General  Manager  of  Government  Railways  and  Telegraphs 

Received  Ticket, — ,  1861. 

Note. — Please  file  this  order  and  return  it  to  the  department, 
with  account  stated  to  the  first  of  each  month,  properly  certi- 
fied for  payment. 

My  passes  from  Washington  to  Maine  were  given  up  of 
course,  and  placed  on  file  in  the  war  department  at  Washing- 
ton, according  to  the  note  appended  to  the  pass  I  have  inserted. 
Not  returning  to  Washington,  this  one  was  not  used,  therefore 
it  remains  in  my  hands.  The  reason  of  my  not  returning  to 
the  seat  of  war,  was  not  because  my  whole  soul  was  not  heart- 
ily in  the  cause,  neither  was  it  because  I  did  not  get  any  pay 
for  my  service,  for  I  have  ever  felt  confident,  that  when  the 
facts  of  my  relation  to  the  army,  suflfe rings  and  service  were 
fully  understood,  a  just  government  would  not  allow  a  poor 
fellow  like  me  to  go  entirely  unrewarded. 

My  condition  was  such  that  I  could  not  go  back,  as  the  fol- 
lowing communication  in  the  Portland  Advertiser  will  show, 
better  than  I  can  describe  it.  It  is  headed : 

SERGEANT  AMBLEE.  Mr.  Advertiser, — A  case  of  great 
hardship  has  just  come  to  my  knowledge,  and  I  must  beg  your 
help. 

Sergeant  Ambler,  so  well  known  as  a  soldier  of  the  Cross, 
after  giving  his  whole  time  and  all  his  earnings  for  the  last 
twelvemonth  to  the  service  of  his  adopted  country,  is  now  suf- 
fering— he  and  his  family — both  from  sickness  and  want. 

After  giving, — literally  giving  instructions  to  the  officers  and 
men  of  the  Massachusetts  and  Maine  Volunteers,  month  after 


AT  WORK  DRILLING.  207 

month;  after  training  the  Sixth  Maine  Regiment  in  Virginia, 
and  the  Fifteenth  Maine  Regiment  in  Augusta,  he  had  his  right 
wrist  dislocated  by  the  stroke  of  a  sabre, — took  a  severe  cold 
there  in  camp,  which  was  followed  by  a  rheumatic  fever  of  three 
months;  and  then  came  to  Portland  intending  to  teach  the 
bayonet  and  broadsword  exercise,  with  most  encouraging  pros- 
pects, hoping  to  secure  something  for  his  family  before  he 
returned  to  the  South ;  but  while  giving  the  second  lesson  here 
in  the  bayonet  exercise,  he  ruptured  a  blood  vessel,  and  might 
have  bled  to  death,  but  for  the  patient  kindness  and  providen- 
tial care  of  strangers.  At  this  time,  having  nearly  lost  the  use 
of  his  left  hand,  partly  on  account  of  an  old  sabre  stroke,  and 
partly  from  the  waste  of  blood,  he  is  now  helpless,  and  almost 
hopeless,  though  upheld  by  a  Christian  faith. 

Nothing  worthy  of  note  occurred  on  my  way  home.  I  felt 
somewhat  jaded  out  with  my  hard  work  at  the  front,  and  my 
long  ride  day  and  night  to  reach  the  old  Pine  Tree  State;  but 
it  was  good  to  sit  down  again  with  my  family,  and  a  few  days 
of  rest,  with  the  good  nursing  and  care  of  a  faithful  wife,  put 
me  on  my  '  taps '  again  as  good  as  new.  My  services  as  drill- 
master,  at  home  and  at  the  front,  had  given  me  some  notoriety, 
and  the  papers  dragged  me  into  notice  again.  I  was  immedi- 
ately beset  from  all  quarters  from  new  regiments  then  forming, 
for  instruction  in  the  various  drill  exercises,  and  I  could  not 
stay  at  home  if  I  would,  and  I  am  sure  I  would  not  stay  at 
home  if  I  could,  when  my  glorious  adopted  country  was  in  peril, 
and  the  boys  needed  instruction  in  the  arts  of  self-defense. 

I  got  up  a  company  of  over  a  hundred  men  in  Biddeford, 
whose  names  I  now  have  on  my  list,  and  drilled  them.  I  did 
not  expect  to  deviate  from  the  usual  course  of  instruction  in 
this  company ;  but  after  teaching  the  officers  the  broadsword 
exercise,  and  all  of  them  the  bayonet  exercise,  and  the  various 
maneuvring,  marching,  and  word  of  command,  the  privates  in- 
sisted in  being  taught  the  broadsword  exercise  as  well  as  the 


208  THE  EXHIBITION. 

officers.  It  being  in  my  own  city,  and  the  boys  my  own  neigh- 
bors and  friends,  I  gave  the  whole  company  instruction  in  each 
exercise,  so  that  the  privates  were  not  a  whit  behind  the  officers 
in  the  use  of  the  broadsword.  This  pleased  them,  and,  on  the 
whole,  gratified  me,  for  I  felt  some  pride  in  having  the  city  where 
I  lived  well  represented  on  the  field.  Every  man  was  prepared, 
if  an  officer  fell,  to  take  his  place. 

They  made  such  progress,  that  I  concluded  to  give  a  public 
exhibition,  for  three  reasons.  The  first  was  to  get  up  a  milita- 
ry fever  among  the  citizens,  and  so  fill  up  the  regiments.  The 
second  was  to  show  what  skill  the  boys  had  attained.  And 
the  final  reason  was  to  get  a  little  cash ;  for  there  was  a  very 
solemn  sound  in  my  larder  about  this  time,  calling  on  me  to  re- 
cruit a  little  in  that  direction,  if  I  would  escape  a  merited  cur- 
tain lecture.  So  I  selected  sixteen  men  of  the  company,  and 
gave  an  exhibition  in  the  city  hall,  of  which  the  Journal  gave 
the  following  report : 

SERGEANT  AMBLER'S  MILITAEY  EXHIBITION.  ANOTHER 
TREMENDOUS  BATTLE. — Amid  the  tumult  and  wonderful  reve- 
lations of  war,  it  is  not  surprising  that  the  fiery  waves  of  battle 
should  break  over  the  quiet  city  of  Biddeford,  for  places  no 
less  prosperous  and  happy  have  been  quite  as  seriously  visited. 

But  the  premonitions  of  the  conflict  of  which  we  are  writing 
had  been  so  freely  scattered  among  us  as  to  arouse  and  prepare 
the  people,  in  some  degree  at  least,  for  the  opening  of  the  war- 
like drama.  Nor  had  the  announcement  that  a  West  Pointer, 
a  pupil  of  the  idolized  McLellan  would  appear,  served  to  di- 
minish the  already  excited  anticipations  of  the  people. 

The  hall  door  was  besieged  by  no  noiseless  throng  long  before 
they  were  opened,  and  after  they  were,  a  continual  crowd 
poured  in  until  every  nook  and  corner  of  the  spacious  room 
was  alive  with  human  forms.  Never  before  was  this  hall  so 
densely  packed,  and  we  believe  it  never  will  be  again,  unless 


THE  DESCRIPTION.  209 

Sergeant  Ambler  should  repeat  his  performance,  which  he  has 
already  been  requested  to  do. 

The  immense  audience,  all  restive  and  anxious,  grew  impa- 
tient. 

Finally  the  exhibition  opened,  and  the  audience  were  en- 
lightened in  the  use  of  the  bayonet  and  sword,  giving  them 
some  idea  of  the  skill  which  a  soldier  must  acquire  in  order  to 
do  good  service  in  battle. 

The  exercises  with  the  sword  and  bayonet  elicited  universal 
admiration,  and  as  the  movements,  which  no  unfamiliar  person 
could  comprehend,  were  explained  by  the  sergeant,  his  magic 
words  fanned  the  burning  excitement  into  one  long,  wild  shont 
ot  applause,  as  the  gale  fans  the  kindling  flame  into  a  terrific 
coiiflagration. 

The  grand  performance  of  the  evening  was  the  cavalry  charge. 
Taking  the  masked  battery.  Sergeant  Ambler  commanding 
the  centre,  rode  in  upon  his  splendid  charger,  purchased  ex- 
pressly for  the  occasion,  with  Haley  and  Horton  upon  the  right 
and  left  wings.  The  conflict  was  long  and  severe ;  and  as 
Ambler  clung  to  his  horse  with  obstinate  tenacity,  his  praises 
were  borne  upward  from  every  part  of  pit  and  gallery. 

The  fight  grew  hotter;  and  as  the  keen  and  perceptive  ser- 
geant saw  that  the  courage  of  his  troops  was  changing  to 
dismay,  and  fearing  another  Bull  Run  stampede  might  occur, 
unless  his  own  brave  deeds  could  rally  them,  he  dismounted, 
and  leaving  his  unterrified  charger  loose,  despite  the  vociferous 
admonitions  of  the  audience,  '  hitch  him,'  '  tie  him,'  etc.,  etc., 
walked  up  to  the  very  face  of  the  masked  battery,  which  was 
all  the  time  pouring  out  shot  and  shell  from  its  savage  Colum- 
biad,  followed  by  his  defiant  troops,  who  now  seemed  bent  on 
victory  or  death.  The  rebels  under  Beauregard  resisted  with 
unwonted  obstinacy,  and  were  only  overpowered  after  a  long 
and  cruel  fight,  such  as  the  people  of  this  city  have  seldom 
been  called  upon  to  behold. 

Strange  to  relate,  none  were  killed  in  this  engagement,  but 
14 


210  GENERAL  DOWS  LETTER. 

among  the  wounded  were  the  following,  who  are  all  injured 
more  or  less  severely : 

Sergeant  Ambler,  Co.  A,  First  Infantry — side  and  leg,  caused 
by  a  severe  collision  of  his  body  with  a  sightless  weapon  in  the 
hands  of  a  rebel. 

Dr.  Haley  suffered  a  facial  disfigurement. 

Stephen  Andrews,  contusion  on  the  cranium. 

Henry  Hutchins,  injured  arm. 

William  Hoppin,  abrasure  of  the  skin  on  the  shoulder. 

Mr.  Horton,  West  Pointer,  wounded  in  the  back  and  elbow 
by  a  sword  thrust. 

William  Annis,  wounded  in  the  back. 

Many  of  the  best  features  of  the  performance  would  improve 
by  repetition,  and  we  hope  to  hear  from  our  worthy  citizen  sol- 
dier again. 

Notwithstanding  admitting  my  Company,  and  the  Sabbath- 
school  I  had  formed  in  the  city  free,  besides  some  other  dead- 
heads, with  an  admission  fee  of  only  ten  cents,  I  realized  over 
seventy  dollars,  which  I  handed  over  to  Mrs.  Ambler  with  my 
compliments,  and  for  which  she  smiled  like  a  May  morning,  and 
of  course  the  promised  curtain  lecture  was  indefinitely  post- 
poned. I  then  went  to  Augusta  to  drill  some  of  the  First  Maine 
Cavalry  in  the  use  of  the  sabre.  The  Fifteenth  Maine  Volun- 
teers were  in  camp  here  at  this  time,  and  also  the  Thirteenth. 
General  Dow,  of  Portland,  was  then  colonel  of  the  Thirteenth 
Maine  Volunteers,  the  officers  of  which  I  drilled  in  the  various 
exercises,  and  whose  mark  was  made  on  many  a  battle-field. 
See  General  Dow's  letter. 

I  know  Sergeant  Ambler  well,  and  have  done  so  for  many 
years.    Without  pay  or  position,  he  rendered  me  important  aid 
in  drilling  company  officers,  mostly  new  and  green,  in  my  com- 
mand, as  they  came  into  camp  from  their  various  localities. 
NEAL  Dow,  late  Brigadier-general,  U.  8.  Vote. 


BREAKING  MY  WRIST.  211 

While  drilling  the  Fifteenth  Maine  Volunteers,  I  met  with 
an  accident  which  put  me  back  some  in  my  work  here.  When 
drilling  Captain  Prescott  my  right  wrist  was  dislocated,  and 
then  set  by  Dr.  Kimball.  This,  in  connection  with  lying  in  a 
cold  camp,  for  it  was  winter,  brought  on  a  rheumatic  fever  which, 
laid  me  by  for  some  time ;  but  with  good  nursing  after  getting 
home,  by  the  best  wife  in  the  world,  I  got  about  again,  and  went 
to  Portland  to  drill  the  officers  of  the  camps  in  the  vicinity.  May- 
or McLellan  gave  me  the  use  of  the  city  hall  for  this  purpose. 
My  wrist  had  not  got  very  strong,  but  the  needs  of  the  officers 
were  so  great  for  instruction  to  prepare  them  for  the  field,  that  I 
ventured  to  do  the  best  I  could.  I  could  get  on  very  well  with 
the  sword  exercise  with  great  care.  While  drilling  a  lieutenant 
in  the  bayonet  exercise  at  self-defense,  I  gave  word  for  him  to 
longe  out  in  prime.  I  parried  in  prime.  The  socket  of  his  bay- 
onet and  the  muzzle  of  his  firelock  struck  against  the  center  of 
my  firelock  with  force,  bringing  my  left  wrist  back  and  badly 
breaking  it.  This  would  not  have  happened  had  not  my  right 
wrist  been  weakened  by  the  recent  dislocation  at  Augusta,  which 
prevented  my  parrying  in  prime  with  sufficient  strength  to 
withstand  the  longe  in  prime  of  a  heavy  man.  While  endeav- 
oring to  recover  my  balance,  so  as  to  save  myself  from  falling, 
I  ruptured  a  blood-vessel,  and  the  blood  flowed  freely  from  my 
stomach.  I  asked  the  boys  to  take  me  to  Rev.  Mr.  Tuckermah's, 
who  aided  with  others  in  stanching  the  blood.  Any  continued 
violent  effort  to  this  day  sets  me  to  bleeding,  and  from  which  I 
never  expect  to  fully  recover.  I  was  taken  home  to  Biddeford, 
and  doctors  Greene  and  Hill  set  my  wrist  and  put  on  splints, 
and  as  I  had  become  considerably  exhausted  from  loss  of  blood 
and  pain  from  my  broken  arm,  they  proposed  to  me  to  take  a 
little  brandy.  I  told  them  no,  I  would  die  before  I  would  touch 
another  drop  of  liquor.  It  had  well-nigh  made  me  over,  soul 
and  body,  to  the  devil,  and  once  fully  out  of  his  clutches,  I  pre- 
ferred death  to  returning  to  the  old  fellow's  camp  and  rations. 

As  soon  as  I  was  able  to  go  out,  with  my  left  arm  in  splints, 


212  GETTING  ANOTHER   WOUND. 

I  went  to  Augusta ;  as  the  cry  was  still  coming  from  the  regi- 
ments there  for  help  in  the  drill,  and  with  my  broken  arm  slung 
behind  me,  I  drilled  the  Sixteenth  Maine  Volunteers.  I  was 
obliged  to  be  very  cautious,  on  account  of  the  old  rapture  of 
the  blood-vessel  alluded  to  before;  I  got  on  very  well, but  drill- 
ing is  a  very  dangerous  work  at  the  best.  One  day,  while  drill- 
ing back  of  the  State-house,  a  large  number  of  spectators  being 
present,  among  whom  was  the  mayor  of  o\ir  city  and  Mr.  Chas. 
Hardy,  I  met  with  another  mishap.  I  was  giving  a  lesson  in 
the  sword  exercise  to  one  of  the  officers,  who  made  a  false 
thrust  and  stuck  the  point  of  his  small  sword  through  my  right- 
hand,  between  the  thumb  and  index  finger,  which  came  very 
near  giving  me  the  lockjaw.  Here  I  was,  a  double  and  twisteil 
cripple.  My  left  wrist  broken,  my  right  hand  terribly  cut,  and 
inwardly  ruptured,  so  that  nobody  would  have  bid  three  cents 
for  me  if  I  had  been  put  up  at  auction,  except  my  wife,  who  in- 
sisted upon  it  that  she  wouldn't  abate  a  cent  from  my  value  on 
that  account.  What  strange  creatures  these  women  are !  The 
more  a  fellow  is  used  up,  the  more  they  set  by  them.  Well, 
that  was  my  case.  When  I  got  home,  my  wife  not  only  had  to 
earn  my  bread  for  me,  but  to  put  it  into  my  mouth,  and  then 
laugh  at  me  because  I  had  the  blues  over  it.  In  this  condition 
the  boys  of  the  Sixteenth  made  me  the  first  donation  that  I  had 
received  since  I  entered  the  service. 

But  time,  that  old  doctor  that  has  done  so  much  since  Adam 
to  heal  us  all,  had  done  well  for  me,  my  right  hand  got  well 
and  I  went  again  to  Augusta,  and  drilled  the  Twenty-first 
Regiment,  of  which  Colonel  Johnson  was  in  command.  I  had 

O  * 

to  do  the  work  with  one  hand,  the  other  slung  behind  me.  The 
editor  of  the  JTennebec  Journal  at  this  time,  writes :  *  Colonel 
Johnson,  of  the  Twenty-first,  requests  us  to  say,  that  he  feels 
greatly  obliged  to  him  (Sergeant  Ambler)  for  the  instruction 
he  himself  has  received,  and  that  imparted  to  the  officers  and 
men  of  his  command  by  Mr.  Ambler.  Few  men  during  the 
war  have  done  more,  with  less  reward  pecuniarily,  than  he.  If 


AT  GALLOUP'S  ISLAND.  213 

thanks  could  make  a  man  rich,  Sergeant  Ambler  would  be 
wealthy  indeed,  but  unfortunately  it  takes  something  more  sub- 
stantial to  support  life.  We  hope  his  case  will  not  be  forgotten 
by  the  Legislature.' 

At  this  time  volunteering  began  to  slack  up,  and  it  was  hard 
filling  up  these  regiments.  I  went  to  Bath  and  made  a  speech 
to  raise  men,  and  soon  got  over  a  hundred  men  for  the  Twenty- 
first,  with  the  promise  that  I  would  drill  them.  I  found  'lip 
exercise'  as  important  as  anything  at  this  period,  and  having 
seen  long  service  in  the  English  army  and  some  at  home,  I 
could  get  men,  when  the  'go-boys'  speech-makers  often  failed. 
I  went  to  Biddeford  and  spoke,  and  to  Boston  where  I  first 
opened  fire,  and  spoke  there  again  and  again,  and  got  hundreds 
of  my  countrymen  to  enter  the  service.  Here,  I  was  requested 
to  go  to  Long  Island  and  Galloup's  Island,  to  drill  General 
Deven's  command.  This  was  a  rendezvous  where  men  were 
carried  as  fast  as  recruited,  to  be  drilled  and  sent  to  the  front. 
I  spent  a  good  denl  of  time  here,  from  the  last  part  of  1863,  to 
April,  1865,  instructing  both  officers  and  men,  as  my  passes  will 
show.  I  here  give  the  general  pass,  with  its  date,  and  the  date 
of  the  last  indorsement  on  the  back  of  it,  by  Captain  Rand, 
captain  of  the  guard. 


HEAD-QUARTERS,  DEPARTMENT  DRAFTED  MEN, 
LONG  ISLAND,  BOSTON  HARBOR, 


)RAFTED  MEN,  ) 
i,  Oct.  8,  1863.  \ 


Pass  Sergeant  Ambler  to  Long  Island  and  return,  by  boat. 
Good  until  further  orders. 

By  order  of  Brigadier-general  Devens, 

W.  A.  HILL,  Lieut.  A.  A.  A.  G. 

This  shows  my  first  service  here,  and  the  last.     On  the  back 
of  this  general  pass  is  the  following  from  Captain  Rand. 

April  4,  1865. 
Corporal  of  the  guard  will  consider  this  good  until  further 

orders.  » 

(Signed)  RAND. 


214  SOBER  REFLECTIONS. 

Thus  the  reader  will  see,  from  the  time  the  first  gun  was  fired 
on  Fort  Sumpter  up  to  the  surrender  of  General  Lee,  I  worked 
for  my  adopted  country  in  every  way  in  my  power.  Can  any 
man  xipon  the  muster-rolls  show  a  prompter,  a  more  patient  and 
unwearied  service  for  the  Union, from  the  beginning  to  the  end 
of  the  war,  though  he  were  native  born? 

'  Tis  true,  I  could  not  say  of  my  wounds,  broken  bones,  and 
disabilities,  that  they  were  received  while  gallantly  leading  in 
the  charge,  and  so  excite  the  admiration  of  all  by  such  daring; 
but  they  were  received  as  truly  in  the  country's  service,  in  more 
humble  and  less  exciting  scenes;  but  often  requiring  more  self- 
denial  and  patience  in  duty,  than  when  inspired  by  the  pres- 
ence of  the  enemy,  the  shrill  notes  of  the  bugle's  call,  the  thun- 
dering of  cannon,  and  the  rattling  musketry,  and  the  echoing 
commands  of  the  plumed  officers  dashing  along  the  lines  on 
their  foaming  chargers.  These  things  have  an  inspiration  to 
make  men  valliant,  when  a  mightier  will  and  a  higher  patriot- 
ism only  can  hold  a  man  up  to  the  work  amidst  less  exciting 
scenes  at  home. 

When  the  war  had  ended,  and  the  dust  and  din  of  battle  had 
ceased,  and  the  good  old  flag  floated  in  triumph  once  more  over 
our  undivided  country,  in  looking  over  the  whole  matter,  I 
could  not  regret  the  steps  I  had  taken.  I  felt  inwardly  that  I 
had  played  the  part  of  a  man,  and  could  I  have  multiplied  my- 
self into  a  thousand  drill-masters,  all  should  have  been  laid  on 
the  altar  of  Liberty  and  Union.  But  here  were  now  some 
shadows  that  would  not  down  at  my  bidding.  Painful  realities 
stared  me  in  the  face  that  I  must  now  grapple  with  as  best  I 
could.  My  health  shattered,  a  cripple  for  life,  and  a  family 
looking  to  me  for  bread,  with  the  little  means  I  had  saved  up 
to  educate  myself  with  all  gone,  poverty — dire,  cruel,  pittiless — 
staring  me  and  mine  in  the  face.  Oh,  it  is  easier  to  face  armies 
with  a  man's  heart  and  hopes,  than  to  stand  crippled  ami  helpless, 
with  grim  want  shaking  its  pittiless  finger  in  your  face.  I  was 
obliged,  from  my  crippled  state  and  with  my  proud  heart,  to  .say, 


ftTTRGEOlTS  CERTIFICATE.  215 

*To  dig,  I  cannot;  to  beg,  I  am  ashamed.'  Without  an  educa- 
tion, and  one  hand  useless  at  my  side,  and  the  constant  danger 
from  a  ruptured  blood-vessel,  it  was  not  much  unlike  human  na- 
ture to  have  a  set-to  with  the  blues,  with  a  family  on  my  hands, 
and  no  prospect  of  ever  being  a  sound  man.  See  the  surgeon's 
letter. 

SACO,  ME.,  March  13,  1871. 

This  may  certify,  that  I  have  known  Sergeant  I.  W.  Ambler 
for  a  long  series  of  years,  both  before  and  since  the  '  War  of 
the  Rebellion,'  and  on  the  breaking  out  of  the  war  he  threw  all 
aside,  and  entered  heart  and  hand  into  the  service  of  the  United 
States;  while  thus  engaged,  he  received  an  injury  causing  the 
rupture  of  a  blood  vessel,  from  the  effects  of  which  he  has 
never  fully  recovered ;  as  over  exercise  ever  since,  and  at  the 
present  time,  produces  a  repetition  of  the  trouble.  He  also  re- 
ceived a  dislocation  of  the  right  wrist  and  a  fracture  of  the  left, 
and  since  these  injuries  has  been  unable,  and,  in  my  opinion, 
ever  will  be,  to  attend  to  business  of  any  description  to  advan- 
tage. 

J.  E.  L.  KlMBALL,  M.  D., 

Late  Surg.  27th  Reg.  Me.  VoU. 


216  FAMINE  IN  MY  PUR8& 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 


WHEN  I  began  to  work  for  the  Union  cause,  I  had  some 
funds  which  I  had  saved  from  the  sale  of  my  book,  for  the  pur- 
pose  of  educating  myself  to  preach  the  gospel  as  I  felt  it  my 
duty  to  do,  all  of  which  I  used  up  to  support  my  family,  and  to 
pay  my  bills  while  drilling  our  officers  and  men  at  home  and  in 
the  field.  My  wife's  mother  gave  me  eighteen  hundred  dollars 
during  the  war,  for  the  purpose  of  securing  a  little  home  that  I 
could  call  my  own.  A  part  of  this  also,  together  with  some 
over  two  hundred  dollars  given  me  by  the  Sixteenth  Maine 
Volunteers,  to  which  I  have  already  alluded,  and  the  boys  on 
Galloup's  Island,  and  several  other  gentlemen,  I  paid  out  in  the 
service.  With  the  balance  I  purchased  some  property  for  a 
home,  paying  $1000  down,  and  gave  my  note  and  mortgage  for 
a  balance  of  $500.  Sc  the  reader  will  see  my  prospects  were 
not  very  flattering.  I  had  tried  to  be  prudent,  but  I  spent  a 
good  deal  in  trying  to  regain  my  health,  and  to  recover  the  use 
of  my  arm ;  but  it  availed  nothing.  I  still  felt  anxious  to  get 
on  with  my  studies,  and  perhaps  more  so  now  than  before,  be- 
cause my  health  was  gone,  and,  being  a  cripple  too,  I  was  sure 
that  now,  more  than  ever,  I  must  be  dependent  on  my  wits  for 
my  bread.  My  friends  who  had  been  cognizant  of  my  labors 
for  the  Union  cause  said,  *  Sergeant,  why  don't  you  apply  to 
the  general  government  for  a  pension,  and  pay  for  your  services 
during  the  war?  It  is  your  duty  to  do  so.'  Such  advice  from 
prominent  men,  whose  wisdom  and  kindness  I  could  not  doubt, 
seemed  to  me  ought  not  to  be  disregarded ;  and  especially, 
when  it  so  completely  coincided  with  my  own  opinion  of  the 


SYMPATHY  FOR  COMRADES.  217 

case,  and  I  concluded  to  do  so,  not  as  a  beggar,  for  I  did  feel 
(and  I  don't  admit  that  it  is  ostentation  to  put  it  in  that  light) 
that  I  had  a  just  claim  on  the  government  for  some  remunera- 
tion for  my  services  during  the  whole  war,  and  to  be  reimbursed 
for  what  I  had  expended  of  my  own  funds  while  drilling  the 
boys  for  service.  If  I  am  wrong  in  my  views  of  the  matter, 
lest  any  one  should  feel  that  I  am  stubborn  about  it,  I  wish  them 
to  distinctly  understand  that  I  am  willing  to  be  forgiven. 

Here  I  must  not  omit  to  state,  that  having  done  all  in  my 
power  to  aid  those  around  me,  for  I  could  not  see  a  brother 
soldier  hungry,  and  not  divide  my  loaf  with  him.  I  had,  for- 
tunately, or  unfortunately,  got  a  little  notoriety  in  that  line, 
and  if  anybody  was  sick  or  suffering,  I  was  pretty  sure  to  be 
sought  out.  Good  friends,  while  I  was  city  missionary,  often 
filled  my  hands  with  good  things  for  the  needy,  and  I  have  no 
doubt  I  often  got  credit  for  benefits  that  others  bestowed 
through  me ;  but  after  I  entered  the  service  for  the  Union, 
these  sources  were  generally  dried  up,  and  what  I  could  do 
now,  I  must  do  out  of  my  own  penury.  To  a  soldier's  call  I 
never  could  turn  away.  The  country  had  said,  'go  to  the 
bloody  field  and  save  us,  and  you  shall  have  laurels  placed  upon 
your  brow,  and  your  graves  shall  be  strewn  with  flowers,  and 
your  little  children  and  widows  shall  be  taken  care  of,  not  as 
paupers,  but  as  the  children  and  widows  of  heroes,  whose  name 
and  fame  we  delight  to  honor,  and  for  whose  families  we  can 
never  do  enough,  not  as  a  charity,  but  as  a  debt  the  country 
will  delight  to  pay,  as  a  slight  token  of  her  appreciation  of  the 
noble  deeds  of  her  fallen  heroes.'  "Well,  that  was  flattering, 
and  many  a  noble  heart  by  such  words  was  charmed  away 
from  wife  and  children,  in  the  hour  of  his  country's  need.  And 
many,  too,  have  been  cared  for  since  their  return ;  but  alas !  how 
many  have  been  left  through  some  informality,  in  some  way,  to 
pine  away  and  die  in  poverty  and  want. 

Private  Wm.  Kelly,  who  belonged  to  the  Sixth  Maine  Vols., 
who  had  served  more  than  four  years,  and  who  was  honorably  dis- 


218  A   SAD  STORY. 

charged  at  the  close  of  the  war,  June  28, 1865,  was  one  of  these 
cases,  whose  condition  and  death,  with  its  sad  surroundings,  I 
will  describe.  He  had  fought  in  the  battles  of  Lee's  Mills,  Wil- 
liamsburg,  Golden  Farm,  White  Oak  Swamp,  Antietam,  and 
Fredericksburg,  was  several  times  wounded,  the  last  of  which 
was  by  a  ball  that  pierced  his  breast,  passing  nearly  through 
him,  and  was  finally  extracted  by  Dr.  Warren,  taking  it  out 
from  under  the  shoulder  blade,  leaving  him  very  much  reduced, 
so  that  he  never  was  well  afterwards.  I  had  not  seen  him  since 
I  drilled  him  with  the  rest  of  the  regiment  at  the  front.  One 
night,  an  old  gray-headed  lady  very  poorly  clad  called  on  me, 
and  asked  me  if  I  knew  William  Kelly  of  the  Sixth  Maine,  and 
said  he  was  very  sick  and  wanted  to  see  me.  I  told  her  I 
thought  I  did,  and  would  visit  him  immediately.  It  was  his 
mother,  who,  on  her  return,  told  her  son  that  his  old  drill-mas- 
ter, Ambler,  was  coming  to  see  him.  He  arose  to  dress,  and 
fainted.  His  wife  ran  to  meet  me,  and  I  hastened  to  the  mis- 
erable dwelling,  up  one  or  two  rickety  nights  of  stairs  in  a  back 
way,  into  a  wretched  open  room  with  no  furniture  save  a  few 
broken  chairs,  and  an  old  stove  and  a  miserable  bed  upon  which 
lay  poor  William,  who  reached  out  his  withered  hand  while  the 
tears  ran  down  his  cheeks  and  said,  '  O  drill-master,  I  am  so 
glad  you  have  come,'  and  sobbed  and  cried  like  a  child.  On 
looking  round  I  found  them  suffering  for  food  to  eat,  they  had 
nothing,  actually  nothing  that  could  be  called  eatable  in  the 
house !  I  said, '  William,  how  is  it  that  you  are  in  such  a  con- 
dition as  this?'  He  turned  his  head  toward  his  wife  and  said, 
'  ask  Mary,  she  will  tell  you.'  Here  is  her  story : 

'We  lived  in  Portland,  and  William  was  not  able  to  do  much. 
I  took  in  washing  to  get  something  to  eat.  One  of  our  little  girls 
was  taken  sick,  and  I  had  to  attend  to  her ;  but  the  child  grew 
worse  till  I  closed  its  eyes  in  death.  I  bargained  with  the  un- 
dertaker to  wash  for  him  to  pay  for  the  coffin,  and  poor  William 
was  unable  to  pay  for  a  hearse,  and  the  corpse  was  carried  on  a 
dray  to  the  burying-ground,  and  William  dug  the  grave  him- 


KELLY'S   WIFE'S  STATEMENT.  219 

% 

self.  Then  the  other  girl  was  taken  sick  and  died.  William 
went  to  the  undertaker's  and  got  a  coffin,  and  carried  it  home 
on  his  shoulders,  as  he  was  not  able  to  hire  it  done.  And  we 
put  the  last  little  girl  in  the  tomb.  We  were  in  debt  and  could 
not  get  the  money  to  pay  with,  and  work  was  hard  for  me,  and 
we  were  both  discouraged.  I  concluded  to  come  to  Biddeford 
.to  get  work  in  the  mill,  and  that  is  why  we  are  here.  When  I 
go  in  the  mill  I  have  to  lock  the  room  so  they  wont  disturb 
William  until  I  get  back.  O  sir,  it  is  hard  times  with  us.'  This 
was  Mary's  explanation.  I  looked  round,  there  was  no  medi- 
cine, no,  nothing  to  make  a  poor  sick  man  comfortable.  I  went 
and  got  some  provision  and  a  few  groceries  out  of  my  own 
funds  for  my  sick  comrade.  Poor  William  got  up  in  his  bed 
and  sat  up,  and  prayed  such  a  prayer  as  I  never  heard,  and  then 
said,  'O  drill-m'aster,  Mary  did  not  tell  you  half  our  sorrows. 
I  tried  and  tried  to  get  a  pension,  but  there  was  always  some 
reason  for  delay;  some  officer  could  not  be  found  whose  signa- 
ture was  necessary;  but,  drill-master,  I  shall  soon  have  my  final 
discharge,  and  shall  not  need  a  pension  in  that  land  where  I 
am  going.  I  want  you  when  I  am  dead  to  bury  me  beside  my 
poor  darlings,'  and  turning  over  on  one  elbow,  he  drew  from 
under  his  pillow  his  discharge,  and  handed  it  to  me.  '  Here,' 
said  he,  '  is  my  discharge.  I  want  you  to  get  my  pension  if 
you  can,  and  pay  yourself  first  for  your  trouble,  and  then  my 
funeral  expenses.  Mary,  will  you  listen  to  my  last  request, 
and  see  that  I  want  drill-master  Ambler  to  be  paid  for  all  his 
trouble,  and  for  all  he  pays  out  for  my  sickness  and  funeral 
expenses,  and  the  balance  to  you,'  to  which  she  assented. 

I  went  to  Portland,  and  asked  Mr.  Drummond  to  endeavor 
to  get  William's  pension,  carrying  his  papers  with  me ;  but  the 
same  delay  and  putting  off  that  William  complained  of  contin- 
ued, although  I  urged  his  present  condition  and  needs;  and  so 
again  and  again,  while  he  lived,  I  tried,  but  certain  officei-s 
were  wanted  to  sign  certain  papers  and  they  could  not  be 
found,  until,  vexed  and  disappointed,  I  took  the  discharge 


220  WILLIAM  KELLY1 8  DEATH. 

papers  home  with  me.  I  had  no  less  than  three  doctors  to 
see  William,  who  did  all  in  their  power  to  save  him,  and  they 
made  him  as  comfortable  as  they  could  while  he  lived. 
Among  them  was  Doctor  Warren,  who  immediately  recognized 
William  as  the  man  from  whom  he  extracted  the  ball  that 
passed  through  him.  The  doctor  was  very  attentive  to  him 
while  he  lived,  and  neither  of  the  physicans  would  take  a  cent' 
lor  their  care.  I  continued  to  care  for  him  until  one  night, 
about  midnight,  the  wife  and  his  mother  came  for  me,  and  said 
William  was  dying.  1  hastened  with  them  to  his  house.  The 
poor  man  had  battled  terribly  against  grim  death,  to  try  to  live 
until  I  came,  but  in  vain.  And  oh,  such  a  sight  1  He  had  torn 
his  bed  in  his  dying  agony,  and,  as  I  opened  the  door,  he  lay 
dead,  with  his  head  hanging  off  the  bed,  his  mouth  open  and 
tongue  out.  The  wife  and  mother  screamed  and  ran  from  the 

O 

house  at  the  sight.  I  laid  him  tenderly  down  upon  the  floor, 
and  went  for  some  help. .  Meeting  one  of  the  police,  I  asked 
him  in ;  but  the  sight  was  too  terrible,  and  he  would  not  stop. 
I  laid  him  out,  but  could  not  close  his  mouth.  I  got  a  pillow 
and  put  it  under  his  head,  and  while  doing  it  both  his  eyes 
opened.  I  was  startled  and  said, '  William,  what  is  the  matter?' 
and  felt  his  pulse  and  found  all  was  still.  I  closed  his  eyes  and 
laid  some  coppers  on  them,  and  went  in  search  of  the  trem- 
bling, frightened  women,  and  when  they  came,  such  wails  I  sel- 
dom ever  heard.  I  called  in  some  of  the  rich  to  see  how  patriots 
were  sometimes  left  to  die  in  poverty  and  want. 

I  buried  William  at  my  own  expense,  paying  out  filly-nine 
dollars  for  funeral  expenses  alone,  besides  my  time  and  travel- 
ing expenses.  As  William  and  the  family  were  Catholics,  I  had 
him  buried  from  the  Catholic  church,  and  mass  said  for  him  as 
usual  with  them.  The  soldier's  organization,  called  the  Grand 
Army,  of  Portland,  when  I  reported  to  them,  paid  me  fifteen 
dollars  toward  the  expenses,  and  no  doubt  would  have  done 
more,  but  for  the  many  calls  which  are  made  on  them  for  help. 
Some  seven  dollars  more  was  afterwards  handed  me  by  friends. 


HARD  RAISING  MONET.  221 

After  William  had  been  buried  some  time,  Mr.  Drummond  suc- 
ceeded in  getting  a  pension  for  the  widow,  who  quietly  took  it, 
but  failed  to  remember  William's  last  request,  viz.,  that  the  ex- 
penses of  his  sickness  and  burial  should  first  be  paid  from  it. 
Query — when  William  was  alive  and  I  had  his  papers  to  pre- 
sent, how  was  it  nothing  could  be  done  to  relieve  his  wants  by 
the  way  of  a  pension ;  when  very  soon  after  he  was  buried  a 
pension  could  be  got  for  his  widow  without  his  discharge 
papers  ? 

Well,  thank  God,  I  did  my  duty,  and  feel  satisfied  to  know 
that  I  helped  to  light  my  poor  comrade  down  the  dark  way, 
through  which  we  all  must  pass  before  we  reach  our  final  rest 
and  reward. 

But  to  return.  After  the  suggestions  of  my  friends  to  ask 
government  for  pay,  I  concluded,  on  the  whole,  to  petition  Con- 
gress for  pay  for  my  services,  or  a  pension,  and  to  be  reimbursed 
for  the  money  I  had  paid  out  to  support  myself  and  family 
while  at  work  for  the  country.  The  question  now  to  be  settled 
was,  how  to  get  the  money  to  pay  the  bills.  To  hunt  up  the 
men  whose  signatures  I  wanted  on  my  petition,  and  to  go  to 
Washington  and  present  it  personally,  would  cost  me  consider- 
able. I  was  bothered  a  good  deal  to  raise  money  for  the  pur- 
pose. I  thought  of  that  old  story  of  the  rats,  who  held  a  con- 
ference one  time  to  consider  what  was  best  to  be  done  about  the 
old  tabby-cat  who  had  intruded  upon  their  haunts.  After  va- 
rious suggestions  from  some  of  the  most  venerable  of  these 
gentlemen  long-tails,  one  smart  young  rat  made  a  speech,  advo- 
cating the  putting  of  a  bell  on  the  cat,  as  that  would  give  them 
due  notice  of  her  coming,  so  they  could  have  abundance  of 
time  to  scamper  off  to  their  holes.  This  brought  down  the 
house,  especially  the  younger  members  of  the  house ;  when  a 
long-tailed,  gray  old  fogy  squeaked  out  his  approbation  of  the 
main  plan,  stating,  at  the  same  time,  that  one  little  objection 
arose  in  his  mind,  and  the  longer  he  thought  of  it  the  more  seri- 
ous it  became,  and  he  would  state  it  in  the  form  of  a  question; 


222  GETTING  NAMES  TO  PETITION. 

and  with  a  twinkle  of  his  old  eye,  he  asked, '  Who  will  put  the 
bell  on  ? '  and  the  meeting  broke  up  in  a  row.  I  decided  that 
I  must  have  some  money;  that  was  young  America ;  but  the 
provoking  question  how  to  get  it  well-nigh  broke  up  everything. 
I  tried  a  long  time,  but  folks  did  not  like  a  second  mortgage. 
At  last,  by  paying  extra  interest,  I  got  a  loan  of  $400  by  giving 
another  mortgage  on  my  little  homestead. 

It  took  me  near  six  months  to  get  the  names  I  wanted  to  in- 
dorse my  petition,  for  I  did  not  mean  to  go  off  half-bent.  My 
wife  worked  making  bonnets  and  at  dressmaking  while  I  was 
working  up  my  petition,  and  in  this  way  we  got  our  bread.  I 
guess  I  ought  to  mention  a  little  business  matter  here,  to  show 
how  the  devil  takes  the  advantage  of  poor  fellows  like  me  when 
in  a  strait  place.  A  runner  came  into  our  little  dressmaking- 
shop  and  wanted  wife  to  buy  some  lace  collars.  She  refused  to 
buy,  telling  him  I  was  going  to  Washington  and  wanted  every 
cent  we  could  raise.  '  Oh,'  said  he, '  I  don't  want  pay  till  he 
gets  back;  you  can  take  your  own  time.'  And  she  bought  them 
and  a  few  other  matters,  some  forty  dollars'  worth  in  all ;  and 
as  soon  as  I  was  off,  he  sued  and  took  over  $100  worth  at  whole- 
sale price  from  our  little  stock,  and  the  stuff  was  sold  at  auc- 
tion for  about  twenty-five  dollars  for  the  whole,  leaving  poor 
wife  seventy-five  dollars  out. 

Before  I  started  for  Washington,  I  used  a  considerable  part 
of  the  money  I  had  hired,  and  as  I  had  now  got  my  petition 
ready  and  was  short,  I  hired  sixty  dollars  more,  for  which  I  had 
to  pay  two  dollars  per  month,  or  forty  per  cent,  hoping  my  pe- 
tition, which  I  here  introduce,  would  be  a  success,  and  then  I 
could  pay  my  debts.  I  think  it  was  the  strongest  paper  ever 
presented  to  the  Military  Committee. 

PETITION — SERGEANT  I.  W.  AMBLER,  ASKING  COMPENSATION 

FOR   SERVICES   RENDERED    IN   DRILLING   TROOPS   DURING    THE 
WAR. 

To  the  Hon.  Senate  and  House  of  Representatives^  etc. : 
The  undersigned,  Sergeant  Isaac  W.  Ambler,  respectfully 


PETITION  TO  CONGRESS.  223 

represents,  that,  having  had  long  experience  as  a  soldier  and 
drill-master,  he  dedicated  himself  at  the  beginning  of  the  late 
rebellion,  to  the  instruction  of  soldiers  and  officers  for  the  ser- 
vice of  the  United  States,  entering  upon  this  work  in  Massa- 
chusetts the  15th  of  April,  1861  (the  second  day  after  the 
attack  upon  Fort  Sumter),  and  continued  to  be  so  engaged  in 
Massachusetts,  Maine,  and  Virginia,  until  the  4th  of  April, 
1805,  without  any  compensation  therefor,  either  from  municipal, 
Slate,  or  national  authorities. 

During  this  time,  Sergeant  Ambler  assisted  largely  in  re- 
cruiting and  drilling  a  very  large  number  of  men  and  officers 
in  all  branches  of  military  tactics,  which  service  he  respectfully 
submits,  was  of  far  greater  value  to  the  government  than  any 
he  could  have  rendered  as  a  company  officer  merely.  Sergeant 
Ambler  was  crippled  in  his  left  arm  by  a  bayonet  wovind,  re- 
ceived while  engaged  in  drilling,  by  which  wound  he  has  ever 
since  been  disabled,  wherefore  he  prays,  that  your  honorable 
bodies  may  pass  a  special  act  for  his  relief,  authorizing  his  mus- 
ter into  the  United  States  service  for  the  period  above  named, 
in  the  grade  of  First  Sergeant,  with  pay  and  other  allowance 
of  that  grade,  and  pension,  or  such  other  relief  as  may  be 
deemed  just  and  proper. 

Not  having  contemplated  making  any  claim  for  the  services 
at  the  time  they  were  rendered,  Sergeant  Ambler  presents  such 
evidence  only  as  is  herein  inclosed. 

1st.  To  establish  the  equity  of  his  claim,  the  document  signed 
by  Hon.  John  Neal,  Governors  Chamberlain,  Washburn,  jr., 
Claflin,  Stearns,  Padelford,  Goodwin,  and  Generals  Hooker, 
Burnside,  Fessenden,  McClellan,  Devens,  Shepley,  and  others. 

2d.  To  establish  dates  as  stated,  the  papers  marked  passes, 
letters,  and  newspaper  extracts. 

3d.  For  proof  of  disability,  etc.,  the  certificate  of  Dr.  Kim- 
ball,  and  citizens  of  Biddeford. 

All  of  which  is  respectfully  submitted, 

I.  "W.  AMBLEB. 


224  TESTIMONIALS. 

January  24, 1872. 
Referred  to  the  Committee  on  Military  Affairs.        LYNCH. 

CERTIFICATES. 

PORTLAND,  ME.,  March  15,  1871. 

This  may  certify  that  I  have  personally  known  Sergeant  I. 
W.  Ambler  ever  since  1859,  that  I  have  always  found  him 
trustworthy,  earnest,  and  laborious,  a  capital  swordsman  and 
drill-master,  and  gifted  with  uncommon  natural  eloquence, 
though  uneducated,  whereby  he  has  been  enabled  to  accomplish 
great  results  as  a  lecturer  on  temperance,  and  as  a  lay  preacher. 
His  services  and  sufferings  in  the  late  rebellion  would  entitle 
him  to  great  consideration  if  they  were  known  to  our  rulers, 
though  technically  he  may  have  little  to  claim  on  the  gov- 
ernment, his  sendees  being  not  only  voluntary,  but  almost 
wholly  gratuitous,  and  the  injuries  he  has  sustained,  whereby 
he  has  lost  many  years  of  his  life,  suffere  1  greatly,  and  been 
put  to  heavy  charges,  not  having  befallen  him  while  in  actual 
service.  Nevertheless,  as  we  are  so  largely  indebted  to  him 
for  instruction  and  example  in  the  several  regiments  mentioned 
in  his  papers,  it  would  seem  that  he  has  claims,  which,  if  not 
legal  and  technical,  are  at  least  equitable,  and  ought  not  to  be 
overlooked  in  this  our  day  of  reckoning  and  generous  acknowl- 
edgment of  such  services  as  he  has  rendered  our  country. 

Entertainining  these  views,  I  do  most  heartily  recommend 
him  to  the  consideration  of  our  national  lawgivers,  and  to  the 
President  of  the  United  States,  and  the  Secretary  of  War. 

All  which  is  respectfully  submitted. 

JOHN  NEAL. 

We,  the  undersigned,  concur  in  the  above  representations, 
and  hereby  join  in  the  recommendation. 

JOSHUA  L.  CHAMBERLAIN,  late  Maj.  Gen.  V.  S.  Vbls. 
JAMES  D.  FESSENDEN,  late  Brig.  Gen.  U.  S.  Vbls. 
ISRAEL  WASHBURN,  JR.,  Ex-  Gov.  of  Maine. 
G.F.SHEPLEY,  U.  S.Judg  estate  Brig.  Gen.  U.S.  Vols. 


TESTIMONIALS.  225 

SETII  PADELFORD,  Governor  of  Rhode  Island. 
WILLIAM  CLAFLIN,  Governor  of  Massachusetts. 

It  is  with  much  pleasure  as  well  as  with  a  deep  sense  of  duty 
that  I  write  this  commendation  of  Sergeant  I.  W.  Ambler, 
drill-master,  and  fully  concur  with  the  accompanying  recom- 
mendations. I  personally  and  intimately  knew  Sergeant  Am- 
bler in  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  in  the  autumn  of  1861 ;  how 
hard  and  successfully  he  labored  to  drill  the  raw  officers  in 
sword,  and  soldiers  in  musket  and  skirmish  exercises,  particu- 
larly in  my  Regiment,  the  Sixth  Maine,  and  I  remember 
instances  in  which  his  courageous  example  and  soldierly  bear- 
ing was  of  great  service  to  our  troops  which  had  not  been  under 
fire,  as  for  instance,  the  affair  of  Lewinsville,  Va.,  under  General 
Smith.  Sergeant  Ambler  was  the  man  selected  to  bear  the 
colors  of  the  Sixth  Maine  through  Baltimore,  when  the  regi- 
ment Avas  on  its  way  to  Washington,  and  when  an  attack  by 
the  mob  was  expected; — received  great  injury  by  poisoned  food 
in  Havre  de  Grace,  etc.,  etc.  I  remember,  also,  that  for  his  hard 
and  valuable  services  in  1861  he  received  no  compensation ; 
that  he  was  subsequently  broken  and  crippled  in  body  for  life 
in  his  efforts  to  aid  the  Union  cause,  as  his  many  scars  to-day 
will  testify,  etc.  I  will  only  say  more,  that  as  I  know  what  I 
above  stated  is  true,  I  most  earnestly  hope  a  just  and  grateful 
country  will  acknowledge  and  reward  his  services. 

Z.  THOMPSON,  Chaplain  6th  Maine  Reg't,  1861-62. 

I  know  Sergeant  Ambler  well,  and  have  done  so  for  many 
years.     Without  pay  or  position,  he  rendered  me  important  aid 
in  drilling  company  officers,  mostly  new  and  green,  in  my  com- 
mand, as  they  came  into  camp  from  their  various  localities. 
NEAL  Dow,  late  Brig.  Gen.  U.  S.  Vols. 

I  know  Sergeant  Ambler.     He  drilled  many  officers  under 
my  command.     I  concur  fully  in  the  recommendations  above. 
CHAS.  DEVEXS,  Jn.,  late  J3rev.  Ma}.  Gen,  U.  S.  V\>1». 
15 


226  TESTIMONIALS. 

I  nm  not  personally  acquainted  with  Sergeant  Ambler,  bat 
from  my  knowledge  of  the  persons  whose  names  are  above 
subscribed,  I  think  him  entitled  to  consideration. 

ONSLOW  STEARNS,  Gov.  of  N.  H. 

I  am  glad  to  concur  in  the  above  recommendations  favorable 
to  Sergeant  Ambler.  . 

A.  E.  BURNSIDE,  Maj.  Gen.  U.  S.  A. 

I  concur  in  the  above  recommendations. 

J.  HOOKER,  Maj.  Gen.  U.  S.  A. 

Having  long  and  favorably  known  Sergeant  Ambler,  I  rally 
concur  in  the  foregoing  recommendations. 

ICHABOD  GOODWIN,  JE/x-  Gov.  of  N.  H. 

From  the  above  indorsements  I  feel  certain  that  Sergeant 
Ambler  is  entitled  to  great  consideration,  and  if  any  irregulari- 
ty exists  in  regard  to  his  muster  in,  it  would  seem  to  be  the  duty 
of  our  lawgivers  to  fully  reimburse  him,  and  pay  for  his  services. 
WM.  COGSWELL,  late  Brig.  Gen.  U.  S.  A. 

I  know  Sergeant  Ambler  as  an  instructor  of  troops  and  a 
teacher  of  the  sword,  and  am  happy  to  concur  in  the  above 
recommendations. 

FRANCIS  FESSENDEN,  Brig.  Gen.  U.  S.  Army. 

I  have  read  the  papers  in  this  case,  and  although  I  have  no 
personal  knowledge  of  the  matter,  I  am  satisfied  that  Sergeant 
Ambler  is  fairly  entitled  to  the  generous  consideration  of  the 
authorities  for  valuable  services  rendered  during  the  war,  and 
that  it  is  a  case  wherein  technical  objections,  if  such  exist,  ought 
not  to  stand  in  the  way  of  ample  recompense  being  awarded  him. 
GEO.  B.  McCLELLAN,  late  Maj.  Gen.  U.  8.  A. 

I  concur  in  the  recommendations  of  Generals  McClellan,  Hook- 
er, Burnside,  and  others. 

C.  C.  MBADB,  Maj.  Gen.  U.  8.  A. 


TESTIMONIALS.  227 

January  22, 1872. 

I  have  known  Sergeant  Ambler  personally  and  by  reputation 
for  many  years,  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  he  is  eminently  deserv- 
ing the  aid  and  relief  he  seeks.  His  services  and  his  sufferings 
alike,  entitle  him  to  this  recognition. 

J.  G.  ELAINE,  Speaker  of  the  House  of  Representatives. 

WASHINGTON,  D.  C.,  Jan.  23,  1872. 

I  have  been  acquainted  with  Mr.  I.  W.  Ambler  for  many 
years,  as  city  missionary  in  Biddeford,  Maine,  and  while  in  the 
service  of  the  United  States,  as  drill-sergeant,  during  the  late 
war.  Mr.  Ambler  came  to  my  rooms,  in  this  city,  some  time  in 
August,  1861,  disabled  from  sunstroke,  and  remained  with  me 
until  he  was  able  to  return  to  the  field.  Learning  that  he  is  about 
to  apply  to  Congress  for  compensation  for  his  services  in  de- 
fense of  the  Union,  I  deem  it  a  duty,  as  well  as  a  pleasure,  to 
earnestly  commend  him  to  that  honorable  body  as  a  gen- 
tleman worthy  of  confidence,  and,  in  my  judgment,  entitled  to 
relief.  D.  E.  SOMES. 

PORTLAND,  ME.,  14th  August,  1871. 

I,  J.  Pierrepont  Neal,  Justice  of  the  Peace  and  Quorum  of 
the  County  of  Cumberland,  Maine,  residing  in  the  city  of  Port- 
land, do  hereby  certify  that  the  foregoing  are  true  and  correct 
copies  of  letters  and  testimonials  in  the  possession  of  I.  W.  Am- 
bler, which  he  has  shown  to  and  which  have  been  carefully  ex- 
amined and  compared  by  me  with  the  foregoing. 

J.  PIERREPONT  NEAL,  J.  P.  &  Q. 

BIDDEFORD,  MAINE. 

Sergeant  I.  W.  Ambler  proposes  to  leave  us  for  a  season ; 
and  we  the  undersigned  cannot  permit  him  to  go  without  bear- 
ing willing  testimony  to  his  Christian  character  and  fidelity,  as 
a  good  missionary  among  the  poor  of  this  place.  He  has  been 
abundant  in  labors  for  their  good ;  ministered  to  their  wants, 


228  TESTIMONIALS. 

reclaimed  many  inebriates,  kindly  expostulated  with  sellers  of 
liquors,  and  persuaded  them  to  give  up  their  traffic ;  visited 
the  sick,  consoled  the  dying,  gathered  at  one  time  about  one 
hundred  and  seventy  little  ones  into  a  most  interesting  mission 
school,  and  the  good  people  of  Biddeford  clothed  the  most  of 
them.  He  has  preached  the  glad  tidings  frequently,  and  to 
many  in  season  and  out  of  season. 

Mr.  Ambler  is  an  accomplished  military  tactician,  having  seen 
long  service  in  foreign  lands,  and  when  the  news  came  in  1861 
that  his  adopted  flag  had  been  insulted,  and  that  it  no  longer 
waved  from  Sumter,  he  immediately  left  the  pulpit  for  the 
drill-room,  giving  his  whole  time,  without  remuneration,  to  the 
instructions  of  officers  and  men,  laboring  in  Maine,  Massachu- 
setts, and  Virginia;  giving  his  whole  time  and  energies  to  aid 
the  cause  of  freedom,  regardless  alike  of  fatigue  and  personal 
comfort;  and  by  so  doing  has  been  made  a  cripple  for  life,  thus 
depriving  himself  and  family  of  those  comforts  which  otherwise 
they  might  have  enjoyed. 

Mr.  Ambler  is  a  reformed  man ;  he  has  gone  through  all  this 
war  and  touched  not,  handled  not,  tasted  not,  any  intoxicating 
liquors.  'He  that  ruleth  his  spirit  is  better  than  he  that  taketh 
a  city.' 

LEONARD  ANDREWS. 

CHARLES  HARDY. 

Rev.  JOHN  STEVENS,  Freewill  Baptist  Minister. 

JAMES  M.  PALMER,  Pastor  2d  Cong.  Church. 

CHAS.  TENNEY,  Pastor  Pavilion  Church. 

E.  H.  BANKS,  Merchant. 

J.  HUBBARD,  Jr.,  Pastor  Baptist  Church. 

CHARLES  A.  SHAW,  Mayor. 

ALVAN  BACON,  M.  D. 

DRYDEN  SMITH,  M.  D. 

WM.  YEOMAN,  Pastor  Free  Baptist  Church. 

WM.  BERRY,  Police  Judge. 

ABEL  H.  JELLESON,  Judge  Municipal  Court. 


A  PAPER  PUFF.  229 

G.  N.  WEYMOUTII,  Attorney  at  Law. 

WM.  P.  HAIXES,  Treasurer  of  Pepperell  Mills. 

R.  M.  CHAPMAX,  Cashier  Biddeford,  Me.,  Bank. 

HOEACE  PIPER,  High  School  Teacher. 

C.  C.  MASON,  Pastor  M.  E.  Church,  Saco. 

Sergeant  Ambler,  who,  it  will  be  remembered,  rendered  most 
efficient  service  not  only  during  the  early  days  of  the  late  rev- 
olution, but  through  the  long  years  of  terrible  warfare,  drilling 
thousands  of  our  officers  and  men  in  the  sabre  and  bayonet  ex- 
ercise, then  eagerly  pressing  to  the  front,  and  who,  since  the 
first  sound  of  the  bugle  note  calling  patriots  to  arm  themselves 
for  the  conflict,  devoted  the  whole  of  his  time  to  the  service  of 
his  country,  is  in  this  city.  It  will  be  remembered  this  excel- 
lent drill-officer  was  for  many  years  an  English  soldier.  Leav- 
ing his  native  country  for  an  adopted  one,  he  gave  his  time, 
money,  and  health  to  sustain  the  principles  of  our  own  free  gov- 
ernment, and  in  so  doing  received  several  terrible  wounds,  one 
of  which — a  musket  and  bayonet  thrust — forever  disables  the 
use  of  his  left  hand. 

Unfortunately  Sergeant  Ambler  has  no  legal  claim  upon  the 
government,  because  he  was  not  mustered  into  service  as  a  sol- 
dier, but  he  was  one  who  protected  our  flag  through  the  streets 
of  Baltimore  immediately  after  the  brave  Sixth  Massachusetts 
had  led  the  way  for  brave  and  noble  men  to  follow.  Such  men 
should  never  suffer. 

One  prominent  trait  on  the  part  of  this  unselfish  man  has 
been  no  meanness  displayed  in  asking  or  receiving  remunera- 
tion for  his  teaching.  Whole  companies  have  gone  into  action, 
every  man  of  which  was  indebted  to  our  generous  friend  for 
months  of  service  on  his  part. 

Sickness,  long  and  painful,  is  the  cause  of  his  present  adver- 
sity. Expense  has  caused  him  to  sacrifice  everything  he  had 
except  honor,  patriotism,  and  a  devoted  Christian  character, 


230 


A  PAPER  PUFF. 


and  hence  he  appeals  to  a  generous  government  for  that  help 
sufficient  only  to  enable  him  to  obtain  the  necessities  of  life. 

Sergeant  Ambler,  it  must  be  remembered,  in  battle  faced  the 
enemy,  fighting  as  bravely  as  the  best  and  most  devoted  soldier 
in  our  ranks.  Shall  not  such  proof  of  attachment  and  such  un- 
selfish devotion  to  our  interests  be  rewarded  by  a  reasonable 
return  on  our  part. — JZoston  Journal. 


CHARGE  ON   WASHINGTON.  231 


CHAPTER    XXX. 


WITH  such  a  document,  backed  by  governors  and  generals 
and  other  good  men,  and  such  testimonials  of  well-known  cler- 
gymen, I  felt  very  certain,  that  with  such  a  formidable  battery, 
I  could  carry  an  enemy's  works  as  soon  as  I  unlimbered  in 
Washington  for  action,  and  what  had  I  not  reason  to  expect 
from  friends  and  patriots  at  the  capitol  ?  Representatives  and 
senators,  on  whose  burning  words  of  patriotism  and  love  of 
country,  listening  multitudes  had  often  hung  in  wondrous  rap- 
tures. If  I  had  been  a  betting  man  I  should  have  put  ten  to 
one,  that  I  should  have  succeeded.  I  went  with  my  head  up 
and  should  have  laughed  at  the  man  who  should  have  proposed 
to  charge  me  one  per  cent  to  insure  me.  Getting  into  Wash- 
ington, I  put  up  at  the  Franklin  House,  and  after  getting  the 
dust  and  dirt  out  of  my  throat  and  eyes,  so  to  get  into  condi- 
tion to  reconnoiter  the  ground,!  started  out, and  charged  down 
on  some  of  the  clerks  at  the  government  buildings,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  getting  an  introduction  to  some  of  the  leading  officials, 
when,  to  my  astonishment,  they  stared  at  me,  and  drew  off  as 
if  I  were  a  hot  potato,  or  something  of  the  kind,  that  might 
burn  them  if  they  touched  me,  or  were  found  in  my  company. 
This  reception  was  novel  to  me ;  but  I  got  it  through  my  head 
at  last,  why  it  was  so ;  and  I  rather  pitied  them,  for  it  seemed 
to  me  that  they  felt  compelled  to  go  on  the  principle  of  non 
commitamus  to  save  their  heads,  and  so  had  generally  adopted 
in  practice  the  old  proverb,  *  every  man  for  himself,  and  the 
d — 1  take  the  hindmost.'  I  knew  there  was  one  man,  at  least, 
from  Maine,  who  cared  for  the  soldier.  And  I  went  to  him 


232  STAVING   TII1NGS  OFF. 

(Speaker  Bluine),  and  be  added  his  name  to  my  petition,  and 
told  me  to  go  to  Mr.  Lynch,  a  representative  from  my  district, 
whose  duty  it  was  to  attend  to  the  petitions  of  his  constituents, 
and  he  had  no  doubt  the  Hon.  gentleman  would  lay  it  before 
the  Military  Committee  at  once,  and  urge  them  to  report  a  bill 
for  rny  relief.  I  went  to  Mr.  Lynch  and  stated  my  case.  He 
told  me  it  would  have  to  go  before  the  Military  Committee, 
and  I  must  be  present  when  it  was  laid  before  them,  and  he 
told  me  when  he  was  ready,  he  would  send  for  me.  Well,  that 
looked  well,  and  I  waited  patiently  three  weeks  for  Mr.  Lynch 
to  send  for  me,  but  he  did  not  do  so.  I  then  went  to  Speaker 
Blaine  and  told  him  how  my  case  was  neglected,  and  Mr.  Blaine 
took  me  before  the  committee  himself  at  their  next  session.  I 
was  questioned  about  my  service,  etc.,  and  was  requested  to  be 
present  at  their  next  meeting.  They  were  holding  their  sessions 
now  every  two  or  three  days.  I  went  to  the  next  meeting,  and 
the  next,  and  the  next,  until  I  had  followed  them  up  for  three 
months,  and  it  always  happened  that  something  else  must  be 
:icted  upon  before  my  case  could  be  reached.  At  last  Mr. 
Marcy,  one  of  the.  committee,  told  me  he  had  searched  all  the 
books  to  find  something  to  meet  my  case ;  but  utterly  failed  to 
do  so.  I  said  to  him,  '  Sir,  I  did  not  come  before  your  honora- 
ble body,  expecting  you  to  find  a  law  to  meet  my  case,  but  to 
set  before  you  the  facts,  that  you  might  report  a  bill  which, 
when  passed  by  Congress,  would  meet  it,  and  give  me  relief.' 
And  I  referred  him  to  my  passes,  to  newspaper  reports  and  my 
petition,  and  the  signatures  of  honorable  gentlemen  recom- 
mending me  and  my  claims  upon  government  for  compensation 
in  some  form.  He  told  me  newspaper  extracts  were  not  relia- 
ble. I  told  him  I  did  not  base  my  matters  on  them,  they  were 
simply  confirmatory  of  the  statements  and  recommendations 
of  honorable  gentlemen,  well-known  to  him  and  the  country, 
and  so  far  as  the  newspapers  were  concerned,  I  did  not  know 
what  would  have  become  of  the  country,  if  it  had  not  been  for 
them  during  the  war.  This  ended  my  meetings  with  the  Mili- 
tary Committee. 


BROKER'S  PROPOSAL.  233 

About  this  time,  a  gentleman  came  to  me — pardon  me  for 
using  the  term — and  said  he  was  well-known  in  Washington, 
and  had  done  a  good  deal  of  business  of  this  kind,  and  had 
been  very  successful  in  securing  pensions,  etc.,  and  he  would 
guarantee  to  get  a  pension  for  me,  if  I  would  pay  him  two 
thousand  dollars.  I  told  him  I  had  no  funds.  He  said  it  was 
bad  for  me;  but  finally  offered  to  get  it  for  one  thousand.  I 
told  him  I  could  not  pay  it,  for  I  did  not  have  it,  and  could  not 
raise  it.  Then  said  he, '  you  can't  get  it.  The  Committee  won't 
report  a  bill  in  your  favor,'  which  I  found  to  be  the  case.  I 
don't  presume  the  fellow  had  any  collusion  with  them  however; 
but  he  was  a  regular  lobbyist,  and  knew  something  of  move- 
ments generally  at  head-quarters.  My  case  reminded  me  of 
the  saying  of  one  of  Massachusetts'  noted  criminal  lawyers,  the 
celebrated  Rufus  Choate,  when  applied  to  to  defend  a  man 
charged  with  murder.  The  first  question  he  put  to  the  man 
soliciting  his  services  was,  '  Has  he  got  any  money  ? '  When 
told  he  was  a  poor  man, — '  What,'  says  Choate,  '  a  poor  man 
with  no  money,  and  charged  with  murder!  There  is  no  hope 
for  him,  sir.'  Not  that  I  had  been  charged  with  crime,  and  no 
money ;  but  this  lobby  member  told  me  that  without  money,  I 
could  not  have  a  bill  reported  in  my  favor. 

I  went  to  Speaker  Blaine  and  told  him  the  offer  that  was 
made  me,  and  asked  his  advice.  He  said,  'Mr.  Ambler,  don't 
you  pay  a  dollar.  If  you  have  not  done  enough  for  the  coun- 
try for  a  little  pension,  throw  your  papers  to  the  four  winds. 
You  go  and  tell  the  Military  Committee  if  they  will  report  a 
bill  in  your  favor  I  will  pass  it  through  the  House  without  any 
trouble.  You  go  and  see  the  president  of  that  committee,  Gen- 
eral Coburn,  and  also  General  Slocum,  and  tell  them  so.'  I 
went  eleven  times  before  I  could  have  an  interview  with  either 
of  them.  The  servant  saying  they  were  not  at  home.  A  habit 
very  common,  I  am  told,  in  this  country,  when  the  lady  of  the 
house  don't  want  to  receive  company;  and  I  won't  say  it  is  not 
true  of  my  native  land.  I  made  up  my  mind  to  try  a  little 


234  -4  LITTLE  DODGE. 

Yankee  dodge,  and  see  if  that  would  not  bring  them  home;  so 
the  servant's  usual '  not  at  home '  might  be  reversed.  I  went  to 
my  good  friend  Elaine,  and  got  permission  to  bear  his  compli- 
ments to  the  gentlemen,  and  the  next  day  presented  myself  at 
the  door  and  handed  the  servant  the  following  card :  '  I.  W.  Am- 
bier  with  Speaker  Blaiue's  compliments.'  The  servant  smiled, 
and  bowed,  and  took  the  card  to  the  honorable  gentleman,  who 
ordered  the  servant  to  show  me  up.  So  my  reader  will  see 
how  to  define  the  term,  'not  at  home.'  In  justice  to  these  gen- 
tlemen I  will  say,  that  I  was  received  kindly,  and  informed  that 
at  that  time  they  were  settling  some  land  matters  that  would 
require  perhaps  a  month's  time,  and  could  attend  to  nothing 
else  until  that  work  was  concluded,  and  they  advised  me  to 
wait  in  Washington  until  that  was  off  their  hands.  Oh,  how 
little  do  men  in  easy  circumstances  realize  the  sufferings  such 
delays  occasion  to  a  poor  man !  Here  I  was,  in  poverty,  hang- 
ing at  the  government  doors,  my  bill  running  up  at  the  hotel, 
and  money  all  gone,  when  a  simple  recommendation  to  the 
favorable  consideration  of  Congress,  that  they  could  have 
written  out  and  signed  in  thirty  minutes,  would  have  sent  sun- 
shine into  my  poor  heart  and  home.  About  this  time,  my  good 
friend  Dr.  Kimball,  of  Saco,  sent  me  fifty  dollars,  which  greatly 
encouraged  me.  God  bless  his  big  heart,  may  he  never  know 
what  it  is  to  want;  and  he  sent  me  the  following  kind  note : 

SACO,  April  11,  1872. 

FRIEND  AMBLER, — I  intended  to  have  written  before,  but 
lack  of  time  is  the  reason  why  I  have  not.  I  am  sorry  you 
have  been  so  bothered  with  your  business.  I  truly  believed, 
that  your  case  was  so  plain  that  but  a  very  little  time  would 
suffice  to  settle  the  whole  affair ;  and  it  is  a  mystery  to  me  that 
this  should  be  delayed.  The  great  thing  in  law  is  proof,  and  I 
think  if  that  is  necessary  in  your  case,  you  have  enough  to  sat- 
isfy any  reasonable  mind  upon  the  subject.  I  am  glad  you  still 
persevere,  and  as  you  are  there,  I  would  stick  till  the  last  gun 


LETTERS.  235 

was  fired.  It  does  seem  to  me  that  you  will  succeed ;  that 
right  will  triumph.  There  is  nothing  new  here  at  present.  I 
am  obliged  to  you  for  your  letters  and  papers.  And  now  hop- 
ing and  believing  in  your  success,  I  remain 

Truly  yours,  J.  E.  L.  KIMBALL. 

P.  S.  Shall  be  glad  to  hear  from  you,  and  shall  hope  to  hear 
good  news. 

Such  kind  letters  were  like  balm  to  me  in  this  long  struggle. 
Whether  I  intended  to  '  stick]  as  the  doctor  advised,  will  be 
seen  by  the  following  letter  sent  to  him. 

WASHINGTON,  D.  C.,  1872. 
DE.  KIMBALL  : 

My  Dear  Sir, — I  pray  that  you  will  excuse  me  for  not  writing 
sooner.  I  have  been  waiting  on  the  committee  to  see  what  they 
would  do  in  my  case,  so  that  I  could  write  to  you  and  tell  you 
something  definite.  I  have  been  battling  with  the  Military 
Committee  ever  since  I  wrote  you.  They  have  come  to  the 
conclusion  that  I  did  great  service  in  the  late  rebellion ;  but 
they  say  if  they  pass  my  bill,  they  are  afraid  that  it  will  open 
a  door  for  others.  I  told  them  if  they  could  find  a  man  who 
had  gone  through  as  much  as  I  had,  having  entered  the  service 
on  the  15th  of  April,  1861,  occupying  the  position  of  drill-mas- 
ter, also  doing  active  service  in  the  field,  and  being  crippled  for 
life, — yes,  and  your  government  recognized  me  as  a  soldier  by 
giving  me  passes  to  and  fro, — I  would  not  press  my  claim.  I 
went  and  told  Speaker  Elaine  what  the  Military  Committee  had 
told  me.  Speaker  Elaine  said, '  What  do  we  care  about  open- 
ing doors!  let  us  have  justice.''  And  he  told  me  to  go  and  tell 
them  from  him,  that  if  they  would  pass  my  claim,  that  he  would 
pass-it  through  the  House  without  any  trouble.  I  went  and 
told  them  personally  what  Speaker  Elaine  had  said,  and  they 
told  me  they  would  let  me  know  in  a  few  days  what  they  would 
do. 


236  PURPOSE  TO   STICK. 

Doctor,  if  it  had  not  been  for  your  assistance,  I  could  not 
have  battled  them  up  to  the  present  time.  A  congressman  told 
me  the  other  day,  that  the  committee  was  going  to  keep  me 
here  till  all  my  money  was  gone,  and  then  I  should  be  glad  to 
go  home.  I  told  him  I  would  have  an  answer  from  the  com- 
mittee, yes  or  no,  if  I  had  to  stay  in  Washington  till  hunger 
sets  upon  my  cheek,  and  starvation  glared  from  my  eye-balls. 
I  left  home  with  no  clothes,  only  what  I  had  on  my  back,  and 
now  I  can  see  necessity  fluttering  round  my  ragged  robe. 
Adieu, — I  am  too  full  to  say  more. 

I.  W.  AMBLER. 

It  will  be  seen  that  my  purpose  was  to  stick  until  something 
was  done;  but  the  best  of  us  cannot  always  bear  up  into  the 
wind's  eye  without  shaking  our  sails,  and  making  some  lee-way. 
My  anxiety  began  to  wear  on  me,  and  while  waiting,  and  back- 
ing and  filling  for  months,  I  was  taken  sick,  and  confined  to  my 
room  at  my  hotel.  For  four  days,  nobody  came  to  my  room 
but  the  servant,  and  I  could  not  get  even  a  cup  of  tea,  weak  as 
I  was,  unless  I  took  it  at  meal-time. 

My  friend  Shepherd,  on  whom  I  had  frequently  called,  missed 
me  and  called  to  see  me,  and  seemed  surprised  to  find  me  sick. 
He  went  and  brought  me  some  oranges,  and  kindly  offered  me  a 
home  with  him  if  I  would  accept  it ;  but  his  wife  being  sick,  I 
could  not  think  of  doing  so ;  as  like  myself,  in  some  measure, 
he  was  a  soldier  and  did  not  revel  in  wealth,  and  could  ill  afford 
additional  expense  on  my  account.  He  insisted  on  my  taking 
five  dollars  to  help  me  along  a  little,  as  he  expressed  it.  I  did 
not  want  him  to  know  how  hard  up  I  was,  and  having  used  up 
all  my  funds,  I  concluded  to  send  for  the  president  of  the  Young 
Men's  Christian  Association,  and  let  them  know  how  matters 
stood  with  me.  I  had  attended  some  of  their  meetings,  and 
spoke  in  several  of  them,  and  I  thought  they  might,  in  a  quiet 
way,  render  me  some  service,  or  help  me  to  some  funds  until  I 
«ould  repay  them.  He  came  to  see  me,  and  I  told  him  how  I 


GETTING  INTO  CATHOLIC  HOSPITAL.  2o7 

was  situated,  money  all  gone,  business  unfinished,  and  already 
in  debt  to  the  landlord. 

I  was  coolly  advised  to  leave  my  valise,  etc.,  in  the  landlord's 
possession  for  my  bills,  and  go  to  the  Providence  Hospital.  I 
did  not  know  who  were  the  patrons  of  this  institution  at  the 
time.  I  did  not  leave  my  valise  with  the  landlord ;  but  I  gave 
him  my  watch  and  chain  for  my  bills.  This  gentleman  got  me 
a  permit  to  go  to  this  hospital,  and  handed  it  to  me  in  an  en- 
velope, which  I  did  not  open  until  I  reached  there.  Judge  ye 
of  my  astonishment,  when  I  found  my  good  Protestant  brother 
had  got  me  into  a  Catholic  institution,  managed  by  the  sisters 
of  charity.  This  seemed  rather  a  shrewd  operation,  for  the 
Young  Men's  Christian  Association,  and  I  concluded  if  the 
president  managed  all  their  affairs  as  carefully,  to  save  expense 
to  them,  as  he  did  in  my  case,  they  might  have  some  funds  in 
their  treasury.  I  handed  the  envelope  containing  my  permit 
to  one  of  the  sisters  in  charge.  On  reading  it  she  remarked, 
Why  sir,  you  are  only  a  pauper;  a  gentlemanly-looking  man 
like  you  ought  to  pay  six  dollars  per  week,  as  some  of  the 
others  do  here,  and  I  could  give  you  a  better  room,  and  some- 
thing better  to  eat  than  you  can  have  now.'  I  told  her  I  had  no 
money,  and  she  would  have  to  put  me  into  the  pauper's  ward. 
My  first  night  here  satisfied  me  that  this  was  not  my  home.  I 
had  a  consumptive  on  each  side  of  me,  who  coughed  the  live- 
long night.  In  a  day  or  two,  I  took  French  leave  of  the  good 
sisters,  for  I  had  strong  objections  to  dying  a  pauper.  When  a 
boy,  I  heard  a  song  called  c  the  pauper's  funeral,'  one  line  of 
which  always  grated  on  my  ear,  where  it  spoke  about  'rattling 
his  bones  over  the  stones.'  When  I  got  out  on  the  sidewalk,  I 
got  a  man  to  help  me  on  to  the  car,  and  went  to  General  But- 
ler's head-quarters,  and  got  a  permit  to  go  to  the  Freeilmen's 
Hospital,  connected  with  the  Howard  University,  designed  for 
the  care  mainly  of  old  and  decrepid  negroes.  When  I  got 
there,  I  was  very  ill  with  a  hemorrhage  from  the  bowels,  and  I 
felt  gloomy  and  forsaken.  I  got  some  rest,  and  had  the  kindest 


238  CRITICISING  SOLOMON. 

treatment  from  the  physic-inns  in  charge  when  they  found  out 
who  I  was,  and  I  soon  felt  much  better.  I  was  sustained  by  an 
abiding  faith  in  the  protection  of  God,  who  had  watched  over 
me  thus  far  in  life,  and  who  had  stood  by  me  in  every  trial  and 
adversity,  and  this  led  me  to  hope  for  better  days.  I  had  been 
trying  hard  for  an  education  since  my  conversion,  and  I  made 
rapid  strides  in  one  department  of  knowledge  at  the  Capital. 
I  loarned  more  of  human  nature,  during  my  sojourn  here,  than 
ever  I  expected  to  learn  in  life,  and  many  things  I  was  sorry  to 
learn. 

Solomon  had  said,  *  By  long  forbearing  is  a  prince  persuaded, 
and  a  soft  tongue  breaketh  the  bone,'  and  I  had  been  faithfully 
practicing  on  this  very  principle  for  several  months,  and  won- 
dered why  I  did  not  succeed,  and  I  came  pretty  near  falling 
into  a  skeptical  frame  of  mind ;  but  I  happened  to  think,  that 
brother  Solomon  had  never  been  to  Washington  with  a  petition, 
if  he  had,  he  would  have  made  an  exception  to  this  rule.  But 
Solomon  was  right  when  he  said,  '  Confidence  in  an  unfaithful 
man  in  time  of  trouble  is  like  a  broken  tooth,  and  a  foot  out  of 
joint,'  and  when  I  looked  on  a  little  further,  and  read,  'Every 
man  is  a  friend  to  him  that  giveth  gifts.  All  the  brethren  of 
the  poor  do  hate  him ;  how  much  more  do  his  friends  go  far 
from  him  ?  He  pursueth  them  with  words,  yet  they  are  want- 
ing to  him.  The  poor  useth  entreaties;  but  the  rich  answereth 
roughly.'  I  said,  that's  true  anyhow,  for  I  have  learned  that 
lesson  from  A  to  Z.  It  is  pretty  hard  to  eat  with  a  broken 
tooth,  or  to  travel  with  any  comfort  on  a  foot  out  of  joint;  yet 
I  had  tried  to  eat  and  travel  too,  upheld  all  through  these 
months  of  waiting  with  *  a  strange  belief,  that  leaned  its  idiot 
back  on  folly's  topmost  twig;  a  lazy,  over-credulous  faith  that 
leaned  on  all  it  met,  nor  asked  if 'twas  a  reed  or  oak;'  but 
facts  of  experience  drove  this  ignis-fatuus  thoroughly  from 
my  mind,  and  the  naked  truth  burst  upon  me  while  lying  sick 
here  in  this  hospital,  that  I  must  depend  upon  God  and  I.  W. 
Ambler  and  his  wife  for  our  bread ;  and  I  decided  to  go  home 
as  soon  as  I  got  able. 


GETTING  MY  BACK  UP.  239 

In  some  three  weeks  I  got  out,  and  went  to  the  Military  Com- 
mittee for  my  papers,  as  I  di:l  not  want  them  to  remain  in  their 
hands.  These  testimonials  of  my  friends  I  wanted  to  preserve, 
so  if  I  could  leave  nothing  else  to  my  children,  I  could  leave  an 
honorable  record  of  which  they  might  be  proud  when  my  poor 
bones  slept  in  the  dust.  General  C.  told  me  to  go  to  General 
M.,  and  he  said  go  to  Mr.  D.,  and  the  latter  sent  me  to  Mr.  L., 
and  L.  told  me  that  Mr.  B.  would  get  them.  Ambler's  back 
was  up  about  this  time.  It  seemed  to  me  that  there  was  a 
chance  about  getting  even  my  papers  back,  and  I  straightened 
myself  up,  and  said,  '  Mr.  L.,  I'll  have  those  papers  before  I  leave 
Washington,  or  I'll  be  a  dead  man,  and  somebody  with  me,' 
and,  'mirabile  dictu?  in  ten  minutes  after  this  brief  speech,  Mr. 
L.  beckoned  to  me,  and  General  C.  handed  him  the  papers  say- 
ing, with  an  upturned  nose, '  Brother  L.,  here  are  those  docu- 
ments,' and  L.  passed  them  to  me.  I  confess  that  I  was  in  a 
passion  when  I  made  that  speech,  and  I  beg  Mr.  L.'s  pardon,  and 
I  am  pretty  sure  he  will  grant  it,  on  reflection,  for  I  had  been 
chafing  under  the  delay  of  months,  until  it  had  eaten  up  all  my 
patience,  and  substance  too ;  but  I  meant  all  that  I  said  at  the 
time,  and  as  much  more  as  the  reader  has  a  mind  to  put  to  it. 
Therefore  this  confession.  My  next  thought  was  how  to  get 
home,  for  I  had  no  money.  Some  of  my  friends  thought  it 
would  be  good  for  my  health  to  take  a  trip  down  the  Alleghany, 
as  far  as  Pittsburg.  I  went  to  Speaker  Blaine  again,  who  always 
encouraged  and  comforted  me,  and  told  him  how  things  were, 
and  he  wrote  a  letter  to  ex-secretary  Scott,  who  gave  me  a  pass 
to  Pittsburg.  After  I  got  my  pass,  I  read  the  letter  that  Mr.  B. 
had  written.  It  so  overflowed  with  sympathy  for  me,  and  set 
forth  my  condition  so  truthfully,  that  it  touched  me  in  a  tender 
place,  and  I  lost  my  mind.  What  intervened  for  a  day  or  two 
I  have  no  knowledge ;  but  when  I  came  to  myself,  I  was  back 
in  the  Freedmen's  Asylum.  I  soon  got  out,  and  thought  it  un- 
safe to  go  down  to  Pittsburg  in  my  state  of  health.  I  decided 
to  get  home  as  soon  as  I  could,  and  I  called  on  General  Butler, 


240  MEETING  IN   WASHINGTON. 

who  very  kindly  furnished  me  the  following  pass*  to  Maine; 
but  I  had  no  money  to  get  me  anything  to  eat  on  the  road.  It 
may  be  asked,  why  these  officials  did  not  furnish  it.  I  wish  to 
say  here,  that  I  was  not  a  beggar,  and  I  did  not  tell  them  I 
wanted  money  for  that  purpose.  They  were  very  kind  to  me, 
and  if  my  pride  had  not  kept  me  from  telling  them,  they  would 
have  generously  responded.  I  could  ask  them  for  a  pass  be- 
cause that  came  out  of  the  government  which  was  my  debtor ; 
but  I  did  not  want  them  all  to  know  just  how  snug  on  the  wind 
I  was  running.  Some  of  my  friends  wanted  a  speech  before  I 
left,  and  I  caught  at  it  as  a  good  way  to  raise  the  '  wind,'  and 
notice  was  given  for  a  meeting  in  a  hall  on  Pennsylvania  ave- 
nue. A  good  number  attended.  I  told  them  I  must  speak  as 
I  felt.  I  had  just  got  out  of  the  hospital,  and  had  been  read- 
ing the  following  in  the  National  Republican,  published  at 
Washington,  March  28,  1872 : 

ARE  REPUBLICS  UNGRATEFUL  ?  Ed.  Republican, — The  aph- 
ovism  which  gave  rise  to  the  above  query,  and  which  has  been 
so  often  asserted,  and  as  frequently  denied,  seems  to  have  found 
a  practical  demonstration  in  one  case,  at  least,  on  the  negative 
side ;  and  it  would  seem  that  a  defender  of  the  nation,  who 
had  made  almost  unparalleled  sacrifices,  prompted  by  the  in- 
spiration of  duty  alone,  and  had  left  the  countiy's  service,  after 
years  of  most  arduous  toil,  sufferings,  and  hardships,  a  maimed, 
crippled,  and  helpless  man,  should,  in  justice,  be  entitled  to,  at 
least,  as  great  a  consideration  as  the  man  who  served  his  ninety 
days  and  received  never  a  wound,  and  saw  never  a  battle. 

Such  is  the  condition  of  Sergeant  I.  W.  Ambler,  personally 
and  intimately  known  to  the  writer  while  in  the  army,  whose 

•  WASHINGTON,  April  16, 1872. 

Please  furnish  transportation  from  Washington  to  Biddeford,  Me.,  for  I.  W.  Am- 
bier,  a  Volunteer  Soldier,  disabled  by  injuries,  en  route  to  the  Military  Apyhim,  and 
render  account  of  the  same  to  General  Wm.  S.  Tllton,  Treasurer  of  the  Military  Asy- 
lum at  Augufta.  To  the  agent  of  the  B.  &  O.  R.  R.  at  Washington. 

I'.EXJ.  F.  BUTLEE,  Manager  A7".  A.  D.  V.  S. 


WHAT  THE  PAPER   SAID.  241 

long  personal  service  and  experience  in  the  English  army  pre- 
pared him  for  the  duties  of  a  drill-officer  of  very  superior  abil- 
ity. At  the  commencement  of  the  war  he  was  a  city  missionary 
in  Biddeford,  Maine.  Two  days  after  the  first  firing  on  Fort 
Sumter,  he  entered  upon  the  work  of  instructing  officers  and 
soldiers  in  drill  and  tactics  in  Massachusetts,  and  continued  his 
labors  in  Maine — accompanying  the  Sixth  Maine  Regiment  to 
Virginia  in  July,  1861.  When  the  regiment  marched  through 
Baltimore  with  bayonets  fixed  and  loaded  muskets,  in  anticipa- 
tion of  an  attack,  Sergeant  Ambler  was  requested  by  Colonel 
Burnham  to  take  charge  of  the  colors  of  the  regiment,  which 
he  did,  and  bore  them  safely  through  the  city. 

During  the  stay  of  the  regiment  at  Chain  bridge,  in  what- 
ever active  service  they  were  required  to  go,  Sergeant  Ambler 
was  ever  among  the  foremost,  and  has  been  seen  to  snatch  a 
muskel  from  the  hands  of  an  inactive  sentry  and  press  to  the 
front,  amid  cheers  and  cries  of 'Bully  for  Ambler!'  lie  re- 
mained with  the  regiment,  doing  constant  and  most  arduous 
duty  as  drill-master,  and  instructing  the  officers  in  the  sword 
and  the  soldiers  in  bayonet  exercise,  often  volunteering  to  go 
on  picket  duty,  and  passing  the  night  on  picket  line,  displaying 
on  each  and  every  occasion  indomitable  energy,  activity,  and 
unfaltering  courage.  In  August,  1SG1,  he  was  prostrr.ted  by  a 
sun-stroke,  from  which  he  suffered  extremely  for  many  weeks, 
but  returned  to  his  labors  as  soon  as  able  to  be  in  the  field,  re- 
turning to  Maine  to  recruit,  where  he  continued  with  his  won- 
derful energy  and  activity  drilling  the  Thirteenth,  Fifteenth, 
Sixteenth,  Twenty-first,  Twenty-third,  and  Twenty-fifth  Maine 
Regiments,  and  First  Maine  Cavalry,  besides  hundreds  of  offi- 
cers and  soldiers  in  Massachusetts. 

While  giving  instructions  in  bayonet  exercise  he  received 
a  severe  and  ugly  wound,  which  shattered  his  left  wrist,  but 
with  Spartan-like  heroism,  he  lashed  his  arm  behind  his  back, 
and  continued  with  untiring  energy  to  give  instructions  in 
fencing  with  his  right  hand,  until  an  accident  disabled  that  also; 
16 


242  TnE  SAME. 

And  this  man,  who  has  testimonials  of  the  highest  order  from 
Generals  McClellan,  Meade,  Burnside,  Hooker,  Chamberlain, 
Neal  Dow,  Cogswell,  Fessendcn,  Shepley,  Devens,  and  from 
Governors  Claflin,  of  Massachusetts ;  Padelford,  of  Rhode  Is- 
land; Stearns,  of  New  Hampshire;  ex-Governors  Washbnrn, 
of  Maine;  Goodwin,  of  New  Hampshire,  and  a  host  of  judges, 
lawyers,  doctors,  and  clergymen,  and  who  has  been  maimed 
and  permanently  disabled  in  the  cause  of  liberty  and  right,  has 
never  received  from  the  government  a  single  penny  of  compen- 
sation, or  other  recognition  than  the  granting  of  railroad  passes. 

Here  we  have  a  man  who  has  given  years  of  the  best  part 
of  his  life  with  a  patriotism  almost  unequaled  in  history;  has 
given  his  arm,  which  is  forever  useless,  and  has  rendered  ser- 
vices far  more  valuable  to  the  army  and  the  cause  than  he  could 
have  done  as  an  officer  of  the  line ;  he  has  fought  and  bled  for 
the  Union,  the  country  of  his  adoption ;  but  never  having  been 
mustered  into  the  army  as  a  soldier,  has  not  and  cannot  receive 
pay  for  his  services  without  special  legislation  from  Congress ; 
and  he  now  modestly  asks  that  Congress  will  allow  him  to  be 
mustered  in  with  the  rank  only  of  sergeant,  in  order  that  he 
may  receive  compensation  for  his  labors  and  sacrifices.  The 
only  objection  made  by  any  one  to  this  act  of  justice,  is  that  it 
will  be  made  a  precedent  for  others. 

The  writer  was  with  Sergeant  Ambler  while  in  the  Sixth 
Maine  Regiment,  and  can  testify  from  intimate  acquaintance, 
association,  and  personal  practical  experience  of  his  uniform 
energy,  activity,  and  proverbial  courage ;  also  of  the  most  ex- 
cellent moral  influence  exercised  by  him  over  the  soldiers  in  a 
moral,  religious,  and  temperance  point,  and  of  his  kind-hearted 
and  generous  labors  among  the  sick  and  suffering,  as  also  will 
be  heartily  and  gratefully  affirmed  by  every  member  of  the 
regiment 

In  Heaven's  name,  if  there  are  others  who  have  sacrificed 
and  suffered  in  the  cause  of  freedom  and  the  Union  to  such  a 
degree  as  Sergeant  Ambler  has,  let  the  *  door  be  opened,  and 


MY  GREAT  SPEECH.  243 

the  suffering,  starving  patriots  be  allowed  to  come  in  and  re- 
ceive relief  adequate  to  their  services.'  Let  it  be  shown  that 
there  is  one  republic,  at  least,  that  can  not  only  feel,  but  mani- 
fest that  gratitude  to  her  noble  and  heroic  defenders  in  a  more 
substantial  manner  than  a  mere  hollow  recognition.  s. 

To  be  true  to  my  promise  to  speak  as  I  felt,  of  course  I  gave 
them  a  bad  speech.  I  had  not  gone  far  before  there  was  some 
disturbance,  and  I  had  to  stop.  One  gentleman  jumped  up  and 
handed  me  fourteen  dollars,  as  a  contribution  from  himself  and 
wife,  for  telling  the  truth,  as  he  said.  This  hushed  them  a  lit- 
tle, and  then  followed  cries  of  '  go  on,' '  go  on,'  and  on  I  went, 
telling  them  some  things  of  which  they  were  cognizant,  ugly 
truths,  and  the  more  ugly  because  true.  I  told  them  I  had  seen 
men  from  Washington  down  in  Maine  and  Massachusetts  mak- 
ing speeches,  who  generally  opened  with, '  Fellow  citizens,  sol- 
diers, and  comrades,'  and  who  so  overflowed  with  patriotism, 
and  with  their  deeds  of  daring  on  the  battle-field,  that  we  al- 
most thought  them  angels  created  for  the  emergency,  and  who, 

'Watchful,  unhired,  unbribed,  and  uncorrupt, 
And  party  only  to  the  common  weal 
In  virtue's  awful  rage,  pleaded  for  right ; 
With  truth  so  clear,  with  argument  so  strong, 
With  action  so  sincere,  and  tone  so  loud 
And  deep,  as  made  the  despot  quake  behind 
His  adamantine  gates,  and  every  joint 
In  terror  smite  his  fellow-joint  relaxed ; 
Or,  marching  to  the  field  in  burnished  steel 
While,  frowning  on  his  brow,  tremendous  hung 
The  wrath  of  the  whole  people,  and  led  them  on 
To  trample  tyrants  down,  and  drive  invasion  back. 
While,  still  they  held  inferior  place,  in  steadfast 
Rectitude  of  soul.    Great  their  self-denial,  and 
Great  their  cares,  and  great  the  service  done  to  God 
And  man.' 


244  DRIVING  A  BARGAIN. 

And  then  I  asked,  what  had  they  done?  They  had  never  seen 
a  battlefield,  had  never  toiled  for  nought,  could  see  the  crippled 
soldier  stand  upon  the  corners  of  the  streets  with  an  empty 
cigar-box  receiving  the  pennies  from  the  passers  by,  while  Priest 
and  Levite  like,  they  would  pass  them  by  on  the  other  side,  so 
poor,  oh,  'poor  as  rats,'  when  calls  like  these  appeared!  From 
such  a  stench  arose  that  smelled  to  heaven,  so  that  even  the  old 
man  in  the  moon,  as  he  went  sailing  over  the  Capital  at  noon  of 
night,  would  put  his  fingers  on  his  nose  lest  his  olfactory  organs 
should  be  outraged. 

At  this  point,  the  meeting  was  disturbed  again,  and  a  man 
arose  and  asked  what  I  would  charge  to  stop,  and  it  was  pro- 
posed to  give  me  fifty  dollars  to  cork  up  my  vials  of  wrath ;  not 
that  what  I  had  said  was  untrue,  but  each  wanted  some  chance 
to  save  his  life,  by  escaping  out  of  Sodom  before  I  sank  it  utterly. 
Here  was  a  good  chance  to  drive  a  bargain.  "Wisdom  dictated 
to  me  to  avail  myself  of  it,  and  dry  up,  as  I  had  nnlimbered  my 
battery  and  charged  on  the  enemy's  works  long  enough  to  feel 
considerably  relieved.  The  money  was  handed  over,  and  with 
many  a  hearty  shake  of  the  hand  I  left.  It  was  a  curious  meet- 
ing, a  curious  speech,  a  curious  bargain,  a  success  in  raising  a 
little  money  to  pay  my  scot.  Some  paid  because  they  valued 
the  truth  and  the  man  that  dared  to  speak  it,  and,  I  have  no 
doubt,  some  helped  to  make  up  the  fifty  dollars  to  prevent  my 
uncovering  any  more  of  the  skeletons  that  were  rotting  about 
them.  It  put  me  in  mind  of  the  son  of  Erin,  who  was  arrested 
on  the  charge  of  having  committed  a  heinous  crime,  and  dragged 
before  the  court  without  any  one  to  plead  his  case.  When  he 
was  ordered  to  stand  up,  and  listen  to  the  charge  which  had  been 
brought  against  him,  he  made  a  great  hulla-balloo,  and  excited 
considerable  sympathy  in  the  court,  when  the  judge  arose,  and 
ordered  him  to  compose  himself,  and  be  quiet,  assuring  him  that 
justice  should  be  done  him,  which  added  a, point  to  his  sorrow, 
and  he  burst  out,  and  said,  'If  yer  honor  will  allow  me  to  say 
it,  by  me  soule,  its  that  same  that  I  am  afraid  of.' 


M7  EXCUSE.  £45 

Reader,  is  it  any  wonder  that  I  was  a  little  bilious  over  the 
way  I  had  been  treated  by  some  of  the  parties  at  the  Capital, 
enduring  months  of  vexatious  delay,  and  weeks  of  sickness  in 
a  hospital  not  the  best  that  could  be  found,  my  hopes  of  help 
all  cut  off,  knowing  that  this  last  effort  had  cost  me  all  the  mon- 
ey I  had,  and  all  I  could  raise,  and  now  I  must  go  home  and 
tell  my  poor  wife  that  we  must  be  turned  out  of  doors,  and  all 
would  have  to  go  to  my  creditors.  Well,  if  you  cannot  excuse 
me,  I  can  excuse  myself,  for  I  could  not  respect  Sergeant  Am- 
bler if  he  had  not  showed  a  little  spirit  then. 

I  don't  mean  to  be  understood  to  say  that  many  of  our  pub- 
lic servants  at  the  head  of  the  government  are  not  as  noble, 
generous,  self-denying,  upright,  and  sympathetic  men  as  can  be 
found  on  earth ;  but  these  good  patriots  and  statesmen  are  an- 
noyed to  death  with  a  set  of  toadies,  little,  mean,  bargaining, 
selfish,  unscrupulous  scamps,  who  are  often  numerous  enough, 
by  taking  advantage  of  little  technicalities  and  games  of  stav- 
ing off,  to  clog  the  wheels  of  just  legislation,  an  occasion  often 
of  painful  and  ruinous  delay,  and  the  course  of  such  is  cause 
often  of  unjust  reflection  upon  intelligent  and  patriotic  states- 
men. 


246  GETTING  SOME  COMFORT. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 


THE  next  morning,  I  shook  off  the  dust  of  my  feet  as  a  testi- 
mony against  the  place,  for  the  suffering,  anxiety,  and  poverty 
that  the  five  months  spent  in  Washington  had  brought  upon 
me,  and  bent  my  weary  steps  toward  the  depot,  a  sadder,  but  a 
wiser  man  than  when  I  left  home.  On  my  lonesome  way  back 
to  Maine,  for  it  is  the  loneliest  place  in  the  world  to  be  sur- 
rounded with  a  crowd  of  strange  faces,  either  in  the  cars  or  on 
the  thronged  thoroughfare,  I  had  a  great  many  thoughts  arise  as 
to  what  I  was  made  for,  why  I  lived,  what  use  I  could  make  of 
all  these  strange  and  bitter  experiences ;  and  I  said,  if  this  is 
the  training  and  drill  that  Heaven  gives  to  fit  me  to  battle  for 
spiritual  freedom  for  myself  and  others,  O  God,  put  me  through, 
so  I  can  parry  all  the  longes  of  Satan,  and  fit  me  to  teach  the 
heavenly  drill  to  thy  disciples,  so  I  can  lead  them  on  to  victory. 
I  got  happy  Avith  such  meditations  on  the  road,  and  never  felt 
more  like  going  through  the  whole  war,  under  the  great  Cap- 
tain of  our  salvation,  until  the  final  muster  for  all  hands  to  re- 
ceive an  honorable  discharge,  and  be  welcomed  where  we  shall 
walk  the  mount  of  bliss,  that  lifts  its  summit  high,  sublime  in 
glory ;  talking  with  our  peers  of  the  incarnate  Saviour's  love, 
and  past  affliction  lost  in  present  joy.  Oh,  wondrous  joy!  a 
distant  view  of  which  makes  pilgrims  walk  the  billows  of  life's 
stormy  seas,  sublimely  lifted  up  above  all  fear  of  sinking  in 
their  awful  depths.  How  ashamed  I  felt  to  think  I  had  ever 
murmured  when  thus  I  rode  upon  the  wings  of  faith  above  all 
earthly  things.  Yet  so  it  is  sometimes.  On  arriving  in  Bos- 
ton, I  met  my  wife,  who  passed  me  by,  and  would  not  have 


BATTLE  WITH  THE  DEVIL.  247 

recognized  me  if  I  had  not  called  her  by  name.  I  had  lost  a 
little  less  than  forty  pounds  in  weight,  pale  and  ragged,  and  after 
gazing  a  moment  she  rushed  into  my  arms  and  burst  into  tears. 
We  journeyed  home  in  company,  telling  each  other  on  the 
way  our  several  experiences.  She,  of  the  way  our  creditors  had 
sued  and  seized  our  little  effects  in  the  shop,  in  which  she  was 
trying  to  make  a  living ;  and  I,  of  what  the  reader  already 
knows.  Yet  we  were  rich  in  each  other's  love,  and  the  love  of 
God,  for  were  we  not '  persuaded  that  neither  death,  nor  life, 
nor  angels,  nor  principalities,  nor  powers,  nor  things  present, 
nor  things  to  come,  nor  height,  nor  depth,  nor  any  other  crea- 
ture, shall  be  able  to  separate  us  from  the  love  of  God,  which  is 
in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord.' 

My  first  business  was  to  reconnoitre  the  ground,  and  throw 
up  such  works  as  my  present  weakened  condition  demanded,  to 
prevent  the  enemy  from  carrying  everything.  I  had  lost  some 
ground  by  giving  way  too  much  to  my  poverty.  The  devil 
made  a  terrific  charge  in  this  direction,  telling  me  'what  a  poor 
miserable  drunkard  I  had  been ;  how  little  I  had  done  since  my 
conversion ;  that  I  had  published  my  follies  in  a  book ;  that  as 
an  excuse  for  putting  out  a  book  I  wanted  to  get  money  to  ed- 
ucate myself  with,  and  I  had  left  the  missionary  work  for  the 
drill-room  and  the  front ;  used  up  my  little  funds  for  other  pur- 
poses ;  had  accomplished  nothing ;  and  last,  but  not  least,  I  had 
shown  a  soft  spot  in  my  head  by  presuming  on  anything  in  the 
shape  of  recognition  and  remuneration  for  anything  done  for 
the  country ;  and  now  I  had  better  come  over  to  the  old  camp, 
and  drink  and  enjoy  myself,  and  let  other  folks  look  out  for 
themselves.'  I  hud  a  hard  tussle  with  the  old  fellow,  but  I  re- 
solved '  to  fight  it  out  on  this  line.'  I  plead  guilty  to  all  these 
charges  but  the  last,  which  I  denied ;  for  the  people  constitute 
the  country,  and  when  the  facts  are  understood  by  them  they 
will  appreciate  them  and  render  a  just  verdict,  and  demand  of 
their  public  servants  that  justice  be  done;  and  so  I  claimed 
that  my  head  was  level  on  that  point,  and  what  was  required 


248  FIGHTING  IT  OUT. 

now  was  to  'wait  for  the  wagon,'  and  Ambler  'would  take  a 
vide.'  To  the  others  on  which  I  pled  guilty,  I  argued  justifi- 
cation. I  am  a  great  stickler  for  that  blessing,  and  envy  no- 
body when  I  am  in  possession  of  that.  As  to  the  first  charge, 
of  having  been  a  drunkard,  and  published  it  also,  I  admitted  it, 
and  from  that  stand-point  I  made  my  strongest  appeal ;  having 
tasted  the  woes  of  the  drunkard,  I  could  reach  them  as  no  man 
could  who  had  always  lived  a  temperate  life;  and  so  I  said,  Mr. 
devil,  rum  made  me  what  I  was,  religion  made  me  what  I  am  ; 
and  through  this  experience  I  could  lift  up  the  poor  drunkard. 
So  this  was  turned  into  a  chapter  of  power.  Then  my  not  having 
done  but  little,  was  a  very  good  reason  why  I  should  do  more 
still ;  I  thanked  God  that  I  had  done  a  little,  and  I  got  some 
justification  out  of  that.  The  reason  also  for  putting  out  my 
first  book,  to  get  funds  to  educate  myself  with,  was  all  true, 
and  had  I  not,  in  the  disposal  of  it,  educated  myself  greatly 
into  the  mysteries  of  human  nature,  the  very  field  of  power  and 
success,  of  which  many  theologians  are  ignorant,  and  without 
which  no  man  can  be  successful.  Why,  the  very  greenness  of 
these  fledglings  that  talk  so  tenderly  and  reverently  of  their 
literary  ''Alma-mater]  makes  them  a  butt  of  ridicule  sometimes 
when  they  come  in  actual  contact  with  live  men  of  business 
and  shrewd  good  common  sense.  The  thinness  of  these  shadowy 
men  make  them  targets  for  many  a  practical  shot.  So  if  I  can 
have  only  one  of  two  things,  viz.,  a  smattering  of  books,  or  an 
actual  practical  knowledge  of  men  as  we  meet  them,  give  me 
the  latter,  if  I  want  to  catch  them  in  the  gospel  net. 

As  for  leaving  the  missionary  work  for  the  drill-room,  I  was 
sure  that  I  could  take  the  missionary  or  Christian  work  along 
with  me.  I  locked  upon  it  as  right,  yen,  as  Christian  duty,  to 
train  men  effectually  to  resist  the  devil,  when  he  assumed  the 
garb  of  rebellion,  and  if  a  Christian  had  not  a  weapon,  and  was 
so  short  as  to  have  to  sell  his  coat  to  buy  one,  it  was  his  duty 
to  do  it,  and  route  the  rebels  at  any  cost ;  so  to  save  to  poster- 
ity, to  our  children,  the  best  government  the  sun  ever  shone 


FIGHTING  BY  PROXY.  249 

upon.  What  was  there  for  them  but  this,  where  every  man  is 
the  peer  of  his  fellow,  and  even  a  'rail-splitter'  can  become  a 
president,  and  honored  and  lored  in  life,  and  for  whom  when  he 
dies,  a  whole  nation  mourns.  He  that  for  such  a  heritage,  to 
sustain  such  a  country,  would  not  use  his  money,  spill  his  blood, 
go  maimed  and  crippled  all  his  days,  live  and  die  in  poverty,  is 
unworthy  the  name  of  patriot.  Now  I  flattered  myself  that  I 
had  done  something  for  my  country  personally  and  by  proxy; 
my  pupils  were  fighting  in  every  battle,  among  the  heroes  on 
every  victorious  field.  Their  skill  in  the  use  of  arms  often  at- 
tested this ;  and  of  their  bravery,  many  a  rebel  had  stinging 
proof,  and  honorable  mention  is  made  of  their  heroic  deeds  in 
the  archives  of  the  States.  I  had  drilled  thousands  of  officers, 
and  probably  ten  thousand  men,  more  or  less,  for  this  noble 
work.  Let  me  give  the  record  of  one  or  two.  Here  is  the  ad- 
jutant-general's report  of  the  noble  Captain  Reuel  "W.  Furlong, 
of  Calais,  who  entered  the  service  July  15,  1861,  as  lieutenant 
of  company  D.,  Sixth  Maine  Regiment  Infantry,  and  was  after- 
wards promoted  to  captain,  his  rank  dating  March  17, 1863.  He 
lost  his  life  in  the  battle  of  the  Rappahannock  Station,  Nov.  7, 
1864,  after  acquitting  himself  as  a  valiant  and  Christian  hero. 
In  this  battle,  he  led  one  of  the  most  brilliant  charges  of  the 
war.  The  regiment  at  that  time  was  merely  deployed  as  skir- 
mishers, but  drove  an  entire  line  of  battle  from  their  intrench- 
ments,  and  then  held  them.  Up  the  ascent,  across  rifle-pits, 
and  into  the  intrenchments,  where  it  almost  literally  rained  lead 
and  iron,  some  portions  of  the  time  actually  facing  ten  times 
its  own  number,  the  regiment  went  alone,  and  held  the  position 
until  the  Fifth  Wisconsin  went  to  its  aid.  Such  was  the  scene 
in  which  the  gallant  Captain  Furlong  offered  up  his  life.  He 
had  previously  signalized  himself  at  Hagerstown,  on  the  12th 
of  July,  where,  going  beyond  the  skirmish  line,  with  only  twen- 
ty-four men,  he  made  a  charge  on  the  enemy,  killing  and 
wounding  twenty-one  men  and  taking  thirty-nine  prisoners. 
With  such  acts,  he  made  a  bold,  clear  record,  as  a  truly  brave 


250  ^  BRAVE  COUNTEYMAN. 

soldier  and  efficient  officer.'  This  was  the  same  man  that  I 
mentioned  before  as  playing  a  clever  trick  on  some  rebs,  when 
in  company  with  myself  we  were  going  down  from  Chain  bridge 
to  Arlington,  on  the  other  side  of  the  Potomac.  I  shall  be 
pardoned  by  the  reader  for  alluding  to  a  countryman  of  mine, 
Captain  John  H.  Ballanger,  a  brave  soldier,  who  was  in  my 
company  when  we  were  serving  under  Wellington. 

He  entered  the  army  as  a  private  when  the  rebellion  first 
broke  out,  in  April,  1861,  at  Muchias.  He  was  an  ardent  lover 
of  his  adopted  country,  and  resolved  to  defend  the  stars  and 
stripes  without  bounty  or  pledges  of  promotion.  As  soon  as 
the  company  was  organized  he  was  chosen  first  lieutenant.  The 
company  was  assigned  to  the  Sixth  Maine  Volunteers  as  com- 
pany C.  I  had  drilled  him  in  the  old  country,  and  had  continued 
to  drill  him  with  others  of  the  Sixth  Maine  Volunteers  in  camp 
at  Portland,  and  during  my  stay  with  the  regiment  in  Virginia. 
I  knew  he  was  every  inch  a  soldier,  and  expected  a  good  report 
from  him.  The  adjutant-general  shall  tell  the  story.  He  writes 
thus  of  him, '  Having  previously  served  several  years  in  the 
English  army,  he  had  a  most  thorough  knowledge  of  all  the 
details  of  the  service,  and  was  therefore  well-fitted  for  the  dis- 
charge of  every  duty  which  devolved  upon  him. 

'In  March,  1862,  on  the  very  day  that  the  army  of  the  Poto- 
mac broke  camp  to  commence  active  operations  against  the 
enemy  for  the  first  time,  Lieutenant  Ballanger  was  promoted  to 
the  command  of  his  company.  With  it  he  landed  at  Old  Point 
Comfort,  in  the  latter  part  of  the  month,  and  marched  up  the 
Peninsula.  He  fought  during  the  siege  of  Yorktown,  and  par- 
ticipated in  the  battle  of  Lee's  Mills  and  Williamsburg,  leading 
his  company  with  ability  and  gallantry.  He  led  it  up  the  Pen- 
insula in  the  advance  on  Richmond,  took  part  in  the  principal 
operations  of  the  army  in  the  vicinity  of  that  city,  and,  during 
the  "  seven  days'  battles,"  fought  with  it  at  Garnett's  Farm,  Sav- 
age Station,  and  White  Oak  Swamp.  Naturally  of  a  sanguine 
and  hopeful  temperament,  he  endured  hardships  cheerfully,  dis- 


HIS  DEATH.  251 

played  marked  coolness  and  bravery  in  action,  almost  laughed 
at  disaster,  and  despaired  not  in  the  least  degree,  even  when 
the  army  arrived  at  Harrison's  Landing,  crippled  and  worn 
out. 

'"When  the  tide  of  war  surged  into  Maryland,  Captain  Bal- 
langer fought  at  the  head  of  his  company  at  Sugar  Loaf  Moun- 
tain, Crampton's  Pass,  and  Antietam.  Late  in  the  autumn,  he 
again  marched  into  Virginia,  and  fought  with  his  men  at  the 
battle  of  Fredericksburg.  During  the  winter  of  1862-3,  he  vis- 
ited his  home  on  leave  of  absence  for  fifteen  days,  the  only  time 
he  was  absent  from  duty  during  his  entire  term  of  service. 

'When  active  operations  were  resumed  in  the  spring  of  1863, 
Captain  B.  with  his  regiment  took  part  in  the  preliminary  op- 
erations about  Fredericksburg,  being  on  the  skirmish  line  with 
his  company  and  hotly  engaged  with  the  enemy  in  a  skirmish 
near  Franklin's  Crossing,  May  2.  He  also  led  his  company  in 
the  assault  upon  the  heights  of  St.  Mary,  cheering  them  with 
unusual  gallantry. 

'When  half-way  up  the  heights,  however,  and  just  as  he  was 
entering  the  first  rifle-pit,  a  minie  ball  crashed  through  his 
brain,  instantly  terminating  his  patriotic  and  heroic  career. 
After  the  enemy  wa<-  routed  and  the  works  captured,  his  com- 
rades buried  him  where  he  had  fallen,  on  the  slope  made  sacred 
by  his  blood  and  that  of  many  of  his  brave  followers.  The 
memory  of  his  heroic  deeds  will  be  gratefully  cherished  by  the 
loyal  hearts  of  a  redeemed  nation.' 

Another  pupil  of  mine  was  Brigadier-general  Hiram  Burn- 
ham,  who  entered  the  Sixth  Maine  Regiment  and  was  elected 
lieutenant-colonel.  This  regiment  was  mustered  in  at  Portland, 
July  15, 1861,  and  was  ordered  immediately  to  Washington, 
where  it  arrived  July  19th,  and  was  stationed  at  Chain  bridge, 
a  few  miles  above  Washington.  The  command  of  the  regiment 
devolved  upon  Lieutenant-colonel  Burnham.  I  gave  him  a  full 
course  of  instruction  in  all  the  various  exercises  in  drill.  The 
whole  regiment  was  under  my  instruction  at  home  and  at  Chain 


2f,2  A    WELL  DRILLED   PUPIL. 

bridge.  I  predicted  brilliant  things  of  Colonel  B.,  on  account 
of  his  quickness  of  perception  of  the  different  military  move- 
ments, needed  in  charging  and  meeting  the  charges  of  the  ene- 
my, and  I  never  had  a  man  develop  so  rapidly  in  drill,  and  the 
skill  with  which  he  performed  the  broadsword  and  bayonet  ex- 
ercises, and  going  through  the  word  of  command,  made  him  no 
mean  antagonist  for  an  expert  to  grapple  with.  The  drill  of  the 
Sixth  Maine  Volunteers  devolved  entirely  upon  him  after  I  left. 
It  could  not  have  been  left  in  better  hands,  and  the  adjutant- 
general,  in  his  report  of  General  Burnham,  writes  thus: '  While 
the  army  of  the  Potomac  remained  in  front  of  Washington, 
from  October,  1861,  to  March,  1862,  Colonel  Burnham  made 
good  use  of  the  time  in  drilling  and  disciplining  his  regiment, 
and  when,  at  last,  a  movement  was  made  by  the  way  of  the 
Peninsula,  he  had  the  reputation  of  commanding  one-  of  the 
most  efficient  organizations  of  the  army?  Here  I  think  the 
drill-master  can  be  tracked  pretty  plainly;  but  I  must  give  you 
something  more,  for  it  is  a  shame  that  so  little  has  been  said  of 
the  glorious  Sixth  Regiment,  and  I  know  the  reader  will  par- 
don me  for  bringing  out  something  of  the  work  of  the  Sixth 
Maine  in  its  identification  with  General  B. 

In  the  second  battle  of  Fredericksb'mjr,  after  crossing  the 
Rappahamiock,  history  says :  '  Early  in  tue  forenoon  the  Fifth 
were  relieved  by  the  noble  Sixth  Maine  and  some  other  troops, 
who  soon  opened  a  severe  and  rapid  fire  upon  the  enemy.  The 
fire  was  returned  with  energy.  On  the  right,  "Fighting  Joe 
Hooker"  had  engaged  the  enemy,  and  had  met  with  success. 

'  Under  the  fire  of  the  rebel  batteries,  Newton's  and  Burn- 
ham's  regiments  lay,  some  in  the  outskirts  of  the  town,  and 
some  in  the  cemetery,  until  General  Sedgwick  gave  the  order 
to  advance.  When — almost  at  the  same  time,  both  the  com- 
mands moved  up  the  glacis  toward  the  hights.  The  Seventh 
Massachusetts,  and  Thirty-sixth  New  York  pushed  forward  up 
the  telegraph  road,  against  the  stone-wall  bearing  to  the  right 
of  the  road.  Their  haversacks  and  knapsacks  were  left  behind, 
that  they  might  be  unincumbered  with  useless  burdens.  As 


THE  GLORIOUS  SIXTH  MAINE.  £53 

they  approached  within  about  three  hundred  yards  of  the  wall, 
a  murderous  volley  checked  the  advance,  and  threw  the  head 
of  the  column  into  disorder.  In  two  minutes  the  men  were 
rallied,  and  again  they  approached  the  wall,  nearer  this  time 
than  before.  A  third  time  they  rallied  !  this  time  they  pushed 
straight  forward  to  the  works. 

'Another  column  under  Colonel  Spear  started  briskly  for- 
ward, divested  like  the  others  of  knapsacks  and  haversacks. 
Marching  from  the  town  at  double-quick  in  column  of  four 
ranks,  they  crossed  the  bridge  just  outside  of  the  city,  when 
its  gallant  leader  received  his  mortal  wound,  and  fell  at  the 
head  of  his  men.  The  Sixty-first  New  York,  which  led  the 
column,  shocked  at  the  death  of  their  beloved  leader,  broke, 
and  in  confusion  turned  toward  the  town.  This  unfortunate 
confusion  spread  to  the  men  of  the  Forty-third  New  York, 
who,  checked  by  the  disordered  mass  in  their  front,  and  sub- 
mitted to  a  galling  fire,  also  commenced  falling  back;  but 
speedily  both  commands  rallied  and  bounded  forward.  They 
reached  the  hights  soon  after  the  columns  on  the  right,  captur- 
ing a  gun  and  many  prisoners.  The  Sixth  Maine  Regiment 
marched  at  the  head  of  the  columns  in  line  of  battle  under 
Colonel  Burnham,  who  advanced  on  the  left  of  the  road. 
Leaving  everything  behind  them  but  their  guns  and  ammuni- 
tion, they  continued  their  advance  on  the  enemy,  encountering 
a  shower  of  bullets,  grape,  and  canister,  as  soon  as  they  arose 
above  the  slight  knoll  which  had  partially  concealed  them. 

*  The  Fifth  Maine  looked  with  wondering  admiration  upon 
the  advancing  lines,  and  when  they  saw  the  Sixth  Maine  with 
their  flag  flying  at  the  head  of  the  columns,  they  cried  out, 
'Our  flag!  our  flag!  'tis  the  flag  of  the  glorious  Sixth  Maine! 
hurrah !  hurrah !  " 

"  Cheers,  cheers  for  our  soldiers, 
Rough,  wrinkled,  and  brown, 
The  men  who  make  heroes 
And  ask  no  renown ; 
Unselfish,  untired,  intrepid,  and  true, 
The  bulwark  surrounding  the  red,  white,  and  blue." 


254  TERRIBLE  SLAUGHTER. 

*  The  Sixth  Maine  was  worthy  of  the  position,  its  color-guard 
now  bounding  forward,  now  halting  a  moment  for  the  men  to 
come  up,  then  dashing  forward  again  in  the  storm  of  "leaden 
rain  and  iron  hail,"  until  finally  gaining  the  bights,  they  planted 
their  flag  upon  the  summit,  where  the  glorious  stars  and  stripes 
waved  in  triumph.  It  was  a  thrilling  spectacle,  and  filled  our 
hearts  with  pride.  This  light  division  had  reason  to  be  proud 
of  its  comrades,  proud  of  the  Sixth  Maine,  of  its  gallant  boys. 
The  light  division  secured,  as  trophies  of  this  battle,  over  seven 
hundred  prisoners,  and  five  cannon.  It  was  a  glorious  day  for 
the  Sixth  Maine.  Never  was  a  charge  more  gallantly  made; 
but  it  was,  too,  a  sad  day,  for  many  hundreds  of  our  brave  com- 
rades lay  stretched  in  death  along  the  glacis,  and  on  the  steep 
ascent,  in  the  ravines,  and  along  the  road.  More  than  three 
thousand  wounded  men  were  brought  into  the  city  before 
nightfall.' 

It  is  a  very  easy  thing  to  talk  of  war ;  but  it  is  a  very  differ- 
ent thing  to  take  part  in  it,  or  to  view  the  field  after  it  is  all 
over,  to  see  the  mangled  bodies  lying  in  all  directions,  and  in 
all  positions  as  they  fell,  their  bowels  torn  out  with  shot  and 
shell,  some  with  headless  trunks,  limbs  torn  off  and  broken, 
others  covered  with  blood  and  dirt,  their  hands  sometimes  full 
of  dirt,  leaves,  or  twigs,  which  they  had  grasped  in  their  dying 
struggles.  Some  with  upturned  faces,  bespattered  with  blood, 
pale  and  ghastly,  their  sightless,  but  glaring  eyes  looking  up  to 
heaven  as  if  in  mute  appeal,  when  the  spirit  took  its  flight. 
And  many  a  moaning,  suffering  hero,  lying  terribly  wounded 
on  the  field  for  days  before  he  can  be  properly  cared  for. 

General  Burnham  gave  me  a  description  of  the  battle  person- 
ally, only  a  few  days  before  he  went  back  to  the  front,  where  he 
fell  a  martyr  to  the  cause  of  liberty  and  union.  I  shall  never 
forget  it,  as  he  held  me  by  the  hand,  when  he  said  with  a  trem- 
ulous voice,  showing  that  he  felt  the  words  he  uttered  in  the 
depths  of  his  soul, '  Sergeant,  I  thank  God  Almighty  for  his  safe 
deliverance  from  such  a  horrid  scene,  for  a  more  terrible  fire 


GENERAL  BURNHAWS  ACCOUNT.  255 

was  never  beard  or  witnessed  than  that  which  was  opened  upon 
us.  We  were  actually  under  a  cross  fire ;  guns  in  our  front  and 
on  each  flank  firing  down  upon  us  from  the  heights  as  we 
marched  along  the  glacis  and  up  the  steep  ascent.  The  rebels 
poured  down  their  shot  upon  us  like  hailstones.  It  seemed  a 
providence  of  God  that  any  one  escaped,  and,  drill-master,  the 
instructions  you  gave  me  seemed  to  ring  in  my  ears,  so  I  re- 
membered every  step  to  be  taken  on  a  charge,  and  the  word  of 
command  as  plain  as  if  it  had  been  given  but  the  day  before, 
and  as  we  charged  up  the  heights  I  kept  shouting  to  my  men 
"  steady  boys,  keep  in  line,"  and  then  ordered  the  boys  to  charge 
on  their  batteries.  With  only  one  fierce  yell  they  dashed  for- 
ward up  to  the  muzzles  of  the  rebel  guns,  and  bayoneted  them 
in  their  own  batteries.  I  remembered  you  and  your  drill  when 
I  saw  the  boys  fighting  hand  to  hand  with  the  rebels  in  close 
quarters,  stabbing  one  another  with  their  bayonets,  the  blood 
spouting  over  their  firelocks  until  they  were  so  covered  and 
slippery  with  blood  that  they  had  to  grip  them  hard  to  keep 
their  hold,  and  I  frequently  gave  the  word  of  command, 
"  Steady,  boys,  keep  cool."  And  as  the  rebs  thickened  on  one 
side,  and  then  on  the  other,  in  their  vain  attempts  at  rallying, 
I  would  command,  "On  the  right,  shorten!"  "On  the  left, 
shorten!"  "Thrust!"*  "Charge!"  "Butt  to  the  front!" 
"  Strike ! " '  f 

Reader,  every  officer  in  this  regiment  understood  the  broad- 
sword exercise  and  the  bayonet,  and  every  non-commissioned 
officer  and  private  understood  thoroughly  the  bayonet  exercise, 

*  First — Seize  tht?  piece  with  the  right  hand  in  front  of  the  left,  let  go  with  the  left 
hand,  and  extend  the  piece  quickly  to  the  rear  with  the  right  arm ;  then  seize  the 
piece  again  with  the  left  hand  at  the  muzzle.  Second— Thrust  the  piece  quickly  for- 
ward to  the  full  length  of  the  left  arm,  the  point  of  the  bayonet  at  the  height  of  the 
breast,  at  the  same  time  straighten  the  right  leg  vigorously. 

t  First— Extend  the  right  arm  forcibly,  and  to  its  full  length,  to  the  front,  the  bar- 
rel falling  to  the  rear  and  resting  on  the  right  shoulder;  straighten  quickly  the  right 
leg,  and  direct  the  blow  at  the  height  of  the  belly.  Second— Follow  the  blow  with 
the  butt  oy  one  over  the  head  with  the  stock.  Third — After  the  blow  to  the  front  the 
piece  should  always  be  brought  down  iorcibly  on  returning  to  guard,  to  represent  the 
blow  with  the  stock. 


"56  GENERAL  J1URN2IAATS  GALLANTRY. 

and  every  word  of  command  in  all  the  evolutions  and  changes 
necessary  in  a  hand-to-hand  fight;  and  the  boys  were  thorough- 
ly in  hand,  and,  under  the  command  of  their  skillful  and  heroic 
leader,  they  could  be  hurled  against  any  given  point  with  such 
a  fearful  shock  as  to  compel  them  to  give  way  before  them.  No 
matter  what  position  they  were  thrown  into,  every  one  had 
been  taught,  and  a  word  brought  them  into  any  other  position 
needed  with  the  ever  varying,  changing,  surging  masses.  So 
they  were  never  lost  under  the  word  of  command,  no  matter 
what  order  was  given.  Such  men,  so  trained,  retain  their  pres- 
ence of  mind,  are  always  cool,  and  can  always  be  relied  upon 
in  these  fearful  shocks  of  hand-to-hand  conflicts,  and  this  was 
what  carried  the  day,  and.  won  for  the  Union  this  battle  against 
i'earful  odds. 

This  regiment  was  assigned  to  the  Fourth  Corps,  Major-gen- 
eral D.  Keyes  commanding.  With  this  corps,  Colonel  Burnham 
participated  in  the  siege  at  Yorktown,  and  his  command  received 
the  thanks  of  General  McClellan  for  a  successful  and  brilliant 
charge  on  the  enemy,  in  which  no  other  troops  were  engaged. 
The  report  goes  on  to  say, '  He  was  in  the  battle  at  Lee's  Mills. 
At  Williamsburg,  he  distinguished  himself  in  Hancock's  bril- 
liant charge  on  the  right  of  the  lines,  which  virtually  decided 
the  battle.  So  sensible  was  General  McClellan  of  Colonel 
Burnham's  services  on  this  occasion,  that  he  personally  ad- 
dressed his  regiment,  a  few  days  after  the  battle,  thanking  them 
for  their  gallantry  and  good  behavior.  In  front  of  Richmond, 
Colonel  Burnham  participated  in  all  the  operations  of  the  army. 
In  the  "  seven  days'  battles  "  he  again  bore  a  conspicuous  part, 
his  command  being  engaged  with  the  enemy  at  Golding's  Farm, 
Savage's  Station,  White  Oak  Swamp,  and  Malvern  Hill  (the 
reader  will  please  keep  in  his  mind  that  the  Sixth  Regiment  is 
with  him  right  along).  His  uniform  gallantry  and  efficiency 
in  all  these  contests,  did  not  escape  the  observation  of  his  su- 
perior officers,  and  on  arriving  at  Harrison's  Bar,  General 
Hancock,  Smith,  and  Franklin,  united  in  recommending  him 
for  promotion. 


GENERAL  BURNIIAWS  GALLANTRY.  257 

In  the  battle  of  Antietara,  Sept.  17th,  Colonel  Burnham  dis- 
played his  usual  coolness  and  bravery. 

General  Smith  organized  a  light  division,  composed  of  the 
picked  men  of  his  corps,  in  which  Colonel  B.  was  assigned  to 
duty.  The  famous  charge  of  the  light  division,  on  the  3d  of 
May,  1863,  through 'Slaughter-pen,'  over  the  stone-wall,  and 
up  the  heights  of  St.  Mary,  carrying  the  enemy's  strong  works, 
and  capturing  a  battery  of  seven  guns,  with  many  prisoners, 
again  added  to  the  laurels  of  this  officer.  General  Sedgwick, 
who  witnessed  this  desperate  and  successful  assault,  and  the 
cool  valor  of  Colonel  Burnham  as  he  led  his  men  on  to  victory, 
rode  forward  to  the  captured  works,  and  while  the  battle  yet 
raged  fiercely,  thanked  him  for  his  glorious  achievement,  and 
assured  him  that  his  services  should  be  rewarded  with  promo- 
tion at  an  early  day.  When  General  Sedgwick  deemed  it 
necessary  to  withdraw  his  troops  to  the  left  bank  of  the  Rap- 
pahannock,  to  Colonel  Burnham  Avas  assigned  the  important 
duty  of  covering  the  withdrawal  of  the  corps;  a  perilous  duty, 
which  he  performed  to  the  full  satisfaction  of  the  general  in 
command. 

The  reduced  state  of  the  army  made  it  necessary,  soon  after 
this,  to  break  up  the  light  division,  and  General  Sedgwick,  in 
general  orders,  expressed  his  regret  at  the  necessity  which  com- 
pelled this  step,  saying,  that  its  services  fairly  entitled  it  to  a 
permanent  organization,  and  its  gallant  leader,  Colonel  Burn- 
ham,  to  its  permanent  command. 

In  the  fall  of  1863,  Colonel  Burnham's  health  being  com- 
pletely shattered  by  his  long,  arduous,  and  exhausting  labors, 
he  was  detailed  to  superintend  the  recruiting  service  for  his 
regiment  in  Maine,  on  which  duty  he  remained  until  February, 
1864.  During  most  of  the  time,  he  was  also  president  of  a 
general  court-martial  convened  in  Portland.  On  returning  to 
active  service,  Colonel  Burnham  was  assigned  to  the  command 
of  the  brigade  in  which  his  regiment  was  serving,  and  so  con- 
tinued until  he  was  promoted  to  the  rank  of  brigadier-general, 
17 


258  GENERAL   BTTRNIIAWS  GALLANTRY. 

April  15,  1804.  At  tin;  request  of  General  Smith,  his  old  com- 
mander,—  who  was  organizing  a  force  at  Yorktown,  to  operate 
on  the  south  side  of  the  James  river, — he  was  ordered  to  report 
fur  service  in  this  force,  and  assigned  to  the  command  ot  the 
Secoiid  Brigade,  First  Division,  Thirteenth  Army  Corps.  He 
participated  with  the  army  of  the  James  in  the  movement  up  the 
river,  and  in  the  subsequent  operations  at  Bermuda  Hundred. 
His  command  was  constantly  engaged  with  the  enemy  during 
these  operations,  and  his  gallantry  and  efficiency  were  never 
more  conspicuous  and  serviceable. 

During  the  unfortunate  battle  near  Drury's  Bluff,  May  16th, 
he  is  reported  as  performing  prodigies  of  valor.  Holding  his 
position  for  hours  after  our  lines  were  beaten  back  at  other 
points,  he  repulsed  continuous  and  determined  attacks  of  the 
enemy,  and  captured  numerous  prisoners.  Although  two 
horses  were  shot  under  him  during  this  hotly  contested  en- 
gagement, he  miraculously  escaped  uninjured.  In  the  attack 
upon  Petersburg,  June  15th,  he  stormed  and  carried  the  ene- 
my's works  with  his  skirmishers,  capturing  five  pieces  of  artil 
lery  and  a  considerable  number  of  prisoners.  Of  this  affair  an 
eye-witness  wrote :  '  The  success  which  he  achieved  placed 
Petersburg  in  the  grasp  of  our  Union  forces,  and  had  there 
remained  two  hours  of  daylight,  the  terrible  struggle  which 
was  subsequently  waged  around  the  "  cockade  city "  would 
never  have  taken  place.'  His  health  failing,  he  proceeded 
north,  and  recruited  himself  somewhat,  with  a  fewr  weeks'  quiet 
with  his  family,  when  he  again  returned  to  his  command. 
Preparations  were  being  made  for  an  attack  upon  the  enemy's 
fortifications  at  Chapiu's  Farm. 

Within  twenty-four  hours  after  his  return,  he  marshaled  his 
men  for  a  last  battle  against  the  enemies  of  his  country.  Dur- 
ing the  night  of  Sept.  28th,  a  pontoon  bridge  was  thrown  across 
the  James  at  Aiken's  landing,  the  18th  corps  crossed,  and  with 
the  first  gleam  of  morning  light  commenced  an  attack  upon 
the  rebels.  General  Burnham  was  selected  to  lead  the  attack- 


GENERAL  BURNHAM'S  LEATIL  259 

ing  column.  At  a  short  distance  from  the  crossing,  he  came 
upon  the  enemy's  skirmishers  strongly  intrenched.  They  were 
speedily  routed  and  pushed  back  toward  their  fortifications.  A 
running  fire  ensued,  the  rebels  being  driven  rapidly.  At  a  dis- 
tance of  about  two  ,miles  from  the  river,  General  Burnham 
came  upon  the  enemy's  works  at  Chapin's  farm,  and  commenced 
the  assault.  The  struggle  was  desperate  and  bloody;  but  the 
determined  resistance  of  the  enemy  was  in  vain.  General 
Burnham  carried  their  works  triumphantly,  capturing  all  their 
artillery,  and  hundreds  of  prisoners.  Still  the  enemy  clung  to 
a  portion  of  the  line,  and  from  the  right  poured  down  a  de- 
structive fire  upon  our  victorious  forces. 

General  Burnham,  who  had  now  dismounted  in  order  to 
enter  the  captured  fort,  now  rallied  such  of  his  force  as  he 
could  assemble,  and  was  making  a  detour  to  the  rear  of  these 
troublesome  rebels,  in  order  to  attack  them  and  secure  their 
capture.  As  he  cheered  on  his  men,  a  minie  ball  pierced  his 
abdomen  and  he  fell. 

Sorely  wounded  though  he  was,  and  in  the  agonies  of  death, 
he  retained  all  his  mental  faculties,  and  saw  his  approaching 
death  with  a  composure  and  resignation  which  well  became  so 
distinguished  a  soldier,  so  eminent  a  patriot,  so  true  a  man. 
With  shortening  breath,  he  spoke  of  his  family ;  and  then,  as  his 
long  and  unselfish  services  for  his  country  seemed  to  flit  through 
his  mind,  he  said,  '•I  have  tried  to  do  my  duty?  when  he  died 
without  a  struggle,  as  he  was  bein^  carried  from  the  field  he 

oo      *  o 

BO  nobly  won.  In  honor  of  his  memory,  the  fort  which  his 
stern  valor  won,  was  called  Fort  Burnham.  It  will  be  seen 
by  this  account,  that  Colonel  Burnham  and  the  Sixth  Maine 
Regiment,  so  illustrious  for  capacity,  coolness,  and  bravery 
and  here  represented  by  the  adjutant-general  as  one  of  the 
best-drilled  organizations  in  the  army,  yielded  the  fruits  to  be 
expected,  as  the  result  of  proper  education  in  all  the  depart- 
ments of  military  drill,  a  truth  which  I  had  labored  hard  to 
impress  upon  all  with  whom  I  had  anything  to  do.  I  had  con- 


260  FRUITS  OF  GOOD  DRILLING. 

tended  earnestly,  that  many  disasters  which  occurred,  in  the 
shape  of  panics  and  utter  routes  and  defeat,  resulted  from  want 
of  proper  drilling.  The  officers  and  men  getting  confused,  by 
not  being  perfectly  familiar  with  all  the  tactics  of  war,  lost 
confidence  in  themselves,  became  panic-stricken,  and  defeat 
was  often  the  result,  when  victory  should  have  been  won. 
General  Burnham  and  his  noble  regiment  had  confidence  in 
their  knowledge  of  arms,  and  in  themselves  because  of  it ;  and 
hence  were  never  flustrated,  and  in  their  charges  on  the  enemy, 
and  in  their  defense  when  charged,  to  an  observer  carried  with 
them  an  air  of  sublimity  and  moral  grandeur  which  could  not 
fail  to  extort  praise  from  even  their  enemies.  How  much  more 
from  friends  anxiously  watching  their  career,  when  in  the  fierc- 
est conflicts  with  the  foe. 

I  mention  only  these  specimens  of  good  training,  to  show 
how  far  and  wide,  in  a  war  like  ours,  may  be  the  influence 
of  even  one  competent  drill-master,  who  devotes  his  time  as  I 
did  from  April,  1861,  until  April,  1865,  to  educating  the  officers 
and  privates  by  thousands,  in  the  drill-room  and  on  the  field. 

Who  can  tell  how  much  the  little  that  I  had  done  had  to  do 
with  saving  the  lives  of  our  boys,  especially  when  on  a  charge, 
or  in  personal  conflicts  with  the  foe;  or  how  much  it  had  to  do 
with  the  general  issue ;  or  with  the  time  when  rebellion  re- 
ceived its  final  blow?  Asrnin  and  acrain  1  received  letters  of 

o  o 

thanks,  from  both  men  and  officers,  telling  me  that  they  Avere 
indebted  to  the  instruction  I  had  given  them  for  the  preserva- 
tion of  their  lives.  I  will  give  one  which  was  sent  from  the 
front  to  the  ITennebec  Journal  by  some  officers  of  the  Sixth 
Maine,  when  they  heard  that  I  had  been  crippled  in  the  work : 

To  THE  PRESS  AND  THE  PEOPLE  OF  MAINE. — The  under- 
signed, members  of  the  Sixth  Maine  Regiment  of  Volunteers, 
are  desirous  of  calling  the  attention  of  the  people  of  our  State 
to  the  present  position  and  distress  of  Sergeant  I.  W.  Ambler, 
of  Biddeford,  and  of  publicly  testifying  our  gratitude  to  him  for 
the  invaluable  service  he  has  rendered  to  us. 


HOW  I  WAS  JUSTIFIED.  261 

Sergeant  Ambler  was  engaged  in  drilling  our  regiment,  both 
officers  and  men,  for  several  months  last  year  in  the  vicinity 
of  Washington,  and  to  his  instructions,  we  believe,  the  regiment 
owes  very  much  of  its  efficiency  and  success.  To  his  teachings 
some  of  us  owe  the  preservation  of  our  lives  upon  the  field  of 
battle. 

He  has  also  been  engaged  in  drilling  and  instructing  other 
of  our  Maine  regiments  and  many  individuals  connected  with 
the  service,  both  as  officers  and  privates. 

He  is  now  disabled  by  wounds  received  while  engaged  in 
this  noble  work,  and  without  the  means  of  earning  his  sup- 
port. 

Such  a  man  should  not  suffer  while  a  country  remains  which 
we  can  call  our  own. 

(Signed  by)         C.  EDES,  ] 

L.  H.  WHITTIER, 

WM.  SHERMAN,  >  Sixth  Maine, 

SIDNEY  W.  TUCKER, 
F.  G.  LEIGHTOH, 

I,  therefore,  felt  the  blessing  of  justification  on  this  depart- 
ment of  my  life.  Proud  of  the  part  I  had  acted  in  this  drama, 
proud  to  be  one  of  the  defenders  of  National  juiberty,  and  I 
came  to  the  conclusion,  that '  Uncle  Sam '  would  hardly  know 
the  difference  between  his  natural  and  his  adopted  children, 
and  would,  on  the  whole,  deal  as  liberally  with  one  as  the  other. 

So,  my  reader,  I  found  a  good  deal  of  comfort  in  reviewing 
the  whole  matter,  and  I  said  to  myself,  my  life  has  not  been  a 
blot  or  a  blank,  and  so  giving  myself  to  God  and  my  country, 
there  is  no  part  of  my  life  that  I  cannot  use  for  the  good  of  my 
fellow  men.  And  1  got  a  complete  victory  over  the  devil  in 
my  tussle  with  him,  when  he  began  to  throw  his  fiery  darts. 
Paul  had  told  me  how  to  do  it.  He  said,  after  I  had  got  the 
rest  of  the  armor  on,  'Above  all,  taking  the  shield  of  faith, 
wherewith  ye  shall  be  able  to  quench  all  the  fiery  darts  of  the 
wicked.'  So  I  held  up  this  precious  shield,  and  with  it  I  could 


262  HOW  I  WAS  JUSTIFIED. 

parry  in  prime  or  tierce,  or  develop  in  seconde,  all  the  lunges 
of  the  devil.  Then  I  had  a  little  more  to  comfort  me. 

I  found,  on  a  review,  that  I  had  personally  got  more  than  a 
thousand  men  into  the  service,  of  my  own  countrymen,  besides 
as  many  more  native  born  Americans,  who  told  on  the  enemy 
in  the  great  strife.  I  had  the  advantage  of  most  men  in  being 
a  soldier  and  a  drill-master  myself,  and  I  could  have  put  thou- 
sands of  dollars  in  my  pocket,  if  I  had  played  the  broker  in 
getting  them ;  but  all  these  temptations  had  no  influence  with 
me;  but  with  singleness  of  purpose,  aiming  to  do  the  most 
good  in  every  way  in  my  power,  to  relieve,  protect,  and  defend 
my  adopted  country  and  flag,  I  worked  early  and  late,  and  al- 
most day  and  night,  as  much  as  in  me  lay,  as  I  promised  to  do 
when  I  made  my  first  speech  from  the  balcony  of  the  old  Mas- 
sachusetts State-house,  on  that  memorable  Sabbath  to  which  I 
have  referred.  So  over  the  whole  road,  there  were  flowers 
strewn  for  my  comfort. 

It  may  be  said  by  some,  how  is  it  that  Ambler  finds  flowers 
in  looking  over  a  war  record ?  Strange  place  for  flowers!  A 
strange  place  among  mangled  heroes,  on  bloody  battle-fields 
to  find  anything  like  solace!  I  admit  it ;  but  go  with  me,  and 
you  shall  see  how  it  is  done. 

There  is  a  sublimity  on  a  field  of  battle  that  is  developed  no- 
where else,  as  it  is  there, — an  utter  self-abnegation,  and  forget- 
fulness  of  everything  but  one's  country,  so  that  even  boys, 
when  the  death-rattle  is  in  their  very  throats,  cheer  their  flags 
and  give  up  the  ghost.  At  the  hospitals  at  Dallis,  among  the 
patriot  wounded  was  a  boy  only  nineteen  years  old.  The  glo- 
rious victory  achieved  in  the  battle  where  he  fell,  inspired  him 
with  enthusiastic  joy,  notwithstanding  the  pain  from  his  wounds 
was  intense.  The  surgeon  as  he  examined  the  ghastly  wound, 
sadly  informed  him  that  he  must  die,  and  that  his  end  was 
very  near.  Glancing  for  a  moment  at  his  torn  and  blood- 
stained limb,  a  tear  glistened  in  his  eye.  Drawing  from  his 
bosom  the  picture  of  his  mother,  he  kissed  it,  and  gave  it  with 


HEROISM.  £63 

a  letter  to  a  comrade,  and  asked  him  to  see  that  it  was  sent  to 
her.  Then  calling  a  friend  to  his  side,  he  grasped  his  hand, 
saying:  ' Matt,  they  tell  me  that  lam  about  to  die.  Before  I 
go,  let  us  give  three  cheers  for  the  glorious  old  Union?  He 
raised  himself  up  in  his  bed ;  but  the  effort  was  too  much  for 
his  exhausted  frame,  and  he  sank  back  upon  his  pillow,  and 
immediately  expired.  Look  at  Thomas  Jackson,  coxswain  of 
the  frigate  Wabash.  His  leg  was  torn  off  by  a  shell,  so  that 
it  hung  by  a  small  portion  of  the  muscle  and  skin.  He  delib- 
erately took  out  his  belt-knife,  and  tried  to  sever  the  leg  from 
his  body ;  but  the  knife  was  so  dull,  though  he  sawed  manfully, 
that  he  could  not  separate  it.  He  was  taken  below,  and  died 
in  two  hours,  saying  to  his  comrades  that  stood  about  him, 
'-Boys,  Iain  happy  to  suffer  for  the  dear  old  flag?  What  a 
nobility  is  this!  A  country  cannot  die  with  such  patriots 
teeming  all  through  her  land.  See  how  battles  make  heroes, — 
making  men  utterly  careless  of  death. 

Let  me  give  you  a  letter  of  a  thorough  soldier,  a  captain  in 
the  Enniskillen  dragoons,  under  Wellington,  during  the  Cri- 
mean war: 

November  2. 

DEAB  JACK, — I  am,  you  see,  alive  at  this  date,  but  God  knows 
for  how  long  after.  You  have,  I  presume,  devoured  all  the  ac- 
counts which  have  been  sent  home,  as  to  our  glorious  charge. 
Ob,  such  a  charge !  Never  think  of  the  gallop  and  trot  which 
you  have  often  witnessed  in  the  Phoenix  park  when  you  desire 
to  form  a  notion  of  a  genuine  blood-hot,*  all  mad  charge,  such 
as  that  I  have  come  out  of  with  a  few  lance  prods,  minus 
some  gold  lace,  a  helmet  chain,  and  brown  Bill's  (the  charger's) 
right  ear.  From  the  moment  we  dashed  at  the  enemy,  whose 
position,  and  so  forth,  you  doubtless  know  as  much  about  as  I 
can  tell  you,  I  knew  nothing,  but  that  I  was  impelled  by  some 
irresistible  force  onward,  and  by  some  invisible  and  impercepti- 
ble influence  to  crush  every  obstacle  which  stumbled  before  my 
good  sword  and  brave  old  charger.  I  never  in  my  life  experi- 


264  SOLDIER'S  LETTER. 

enccd  such  a  sublime  sensation  as  in  the  moment  of  the  charge. 
Some  fellows  talk  of  its  being  'demoniac.'  I  know  this,  that  it 
was  such  as  made  me  a  match  for  any  two  ordinary  men,  and 
gave  me  such  an  amount  of  glorious  indifference  as  to  life,  as  I 
thought  it  impossible  to  be  master  of.  It  would  do  your  Celtic 
heart  good  to  hear  the  most  magnificent  cheers  with  which  we 
dashed  into  what  P W calls  'the  gully  sc'rimage.'  For- 
ward— dash — bang — clank,  and  there  we  were  in  the  midst  of 
such  smoke,  cheer,  and  clatter  as  nev^r  before  stunned  a  mortal's 
ear.  It  was  glorious.  Down  one  by  one,  aye,  two  by  two,  fell  the 
thick-skulled  and  over-numerous  Cossasks  and  other  lads  of  the 
tribe  of  Old  Nick.  Down  too,  alas,  fell  many  a  hero  with  a  warm 
Celtic  heart,  and  more  than  one  fell  screaming  loud  for  victory. 
I  could  not  pause,  I  was  all  push,  wheel,  frenzy,  strike,  and 
down,  down,  down  they  went.  Twice  I  was  unhorsed,  and 
more  than  once  I  had  to  grip  my  sword  tighter,  the  blood  of 
foes  streaming  down  over  the  hilt  and  running  up  my  very 
sleeve.  Our  old  Waterloo  comrades,  the  Scott  Grays,  and  our- 
selves, were  the  only  fellows  who  flung  headlong  first  into  the 
very  heart  of  the  Muscoves.  Now  we  were  lost  in  their  ranks — 
now  in  little  bands  battling — now  in  good  order  together — now 
in  and  now  out,  until  the  whole  'levies'  on  the  spot  plunged  into 
a  forming  body  of  the  enemy,  and  helped  us  to  end  the  fight  by 
compelling  the  foe  to  fly.  Never  did  men  run  so  vehemently 
but  all  this  you  have  read  in  the  papers. 

I  cannot  depict  my  feelings  when  we  returned.  I  sat  down 
completely  exhausted  and  unable  to  eat,  though  deadly  hungry. 
All  my  uniform,  iny  hands,  my  very  face  were  bespattered 
with  blood.  It  was  that  of  the  enemy.  Grand  idea!  But  my 
feelings, — they  were  full  of  that  exultation  which  it  is  impossi- 
ble to  describe.  At  least  twelve  Russians  were  sent  wholly 
out  of  the  'way  of  the  war'  by  my  good  steel  alone,  and  at 
least  as  many  more  put  on  the  passage  to  that  peaceful  exit  by 
the  same  excellent  weapon.  So,  also,  can  others  say.  What  a 
tiling  to  reflect  on !  I  have  almost  grown  a  soldier  philosopher, 


THE  LESSONS  OF  WAR.  2G5 

and  most  probably  will  one  of  these  days,  if  the  bullets  which 
are  flying  about  so  abundantly  give  me  time  to  brush  up. 

My  dear  fellow,  our  countrymen  have  not  tarnished  their 
fame  in  this  battle.  Gallantry  and  glory  will  never  abandon 
the  march  of  Celtic  bands, — never!  Oh,  that  I  could  have 
patience  to  write  you  of  such  deeds  of  individual  heroism  as 
have  come  within  my  notice !  Fictionists  are  shabby  judges 
of  true  bravery.  No  novel  ever  had  sham  hero,  who  comes  up 
to  the  realities  I  have  witnessed.  One  of  my  troops,  for  in- 
stance, had  his  horse  shot  under  him  in  the  melee.  '  Bloody 
wars,'  he  roared,  '  this  wont  do,'  and  right  at  a  Russian  he  ran, 
pulled  him  from  his  horse  by  the  sword-hand  in  the  most  ex- 
traordinary manner;  then  deliberately  cutting  off  his  head  as 
he  came  down,  vaulted  into  the  saddle,  and  turning  the  Russian 
charger  against  its  late  friends,  fought  his  way  through.  This 
took  less  time  to  do  than  it  takes  me  to  tell  it. 

Dear  Jack,  there  are  deeds  of  daring  when  you  encounter  an 
enemy,  as  I  have  done,  in  a  hand  to  hand  fight  with  the  sword. 
The  first  sword-cut  that  I  received  was  two  and  a  half  inches 
long,  which  I  will  show  you  if  ever  I  see  you.  Good-by,  old 
boy. 

From  your  friend  and  comrade, 

THOMAS  NIGLOON. 

I  can  see  in  this  war,  as  in  the  war  of  the  Revolution,  the 
throes  of  a  nobler  manhood.  The  travail  of  a  government,  in 
giving  birth  to  a  higher  state  of  liberty  and  equality,  so  that 
when  it  is  delivered  of  that,  of,  and  for  which  it  has  travailed 
in  pain  and  in  blood,  it  shall  rejoice  like  the  mother  over  her 
last-born  and  most  perfect  child,  who  shall  bear  her  name  and 
fame  down  the  long  years  of  posterity. 

As  Tyrrell  says,  '  Let  us  pause  and  reflect  upon  this  history 
of  carnage  and  horror !  We  would  fain  that  such  gigantic 
calamities  should  yield  some  good  to  humanity,  some  lessons 
to  the  world.  If  seas  and  mountains  have  their  meaning,  and 


266  TlIE  LESSONS  OF  WAK. 

with  a  silent  yet  sublime  eloquence  which  is  felt,  not  heard, 
impress  on  the  beholder  elevating  and  gentle  thoughts;  if  the 
hoarse  murmur  or  shrill  scream  of  the  bleak  wind  through  the 
dense  dim  forests  has  a  voice  to  those  who  listen  in  the  spirit 
of  the  seer;  if  stones,  and  trees,  and  running  brooks  preach 
mute  sermons  to  the  philosophic  mind;  if  the  mysterious  and 
silent  stars  sing  in  their  course  like  millions  of  radiant  angels, 
and  shed  an  inspiration  on  the  rapt  beholder, — if  these  things 
are  so  (and  in  a  metaphorical  sense  they  are),  then  surely  war, 
in  all  its  ghastly  and  fiendish  majesty, — war,  with  its  regal 
preparations,  with  its  pomp,  its  gold,  its  scarlet  and  blue,  and 
its  grand  swelling  strains  of  music, — war,  with  its  roarings  and 
its  thunders,  with  its  terrific  lightnings,  which  more  than  rival 
those  of  heaven,  with  its  cataracts  of  fire,  hurling  from  ten 
thousand  iron  mouths  the  deadly  messengers  whose  shocks  are 
as  if  some  infernal  deity  had  smote  the  staggering  earth,  until 
the  mountains  reeled,  and  the  astonished  sea  stood  still, — war, 
the  stupendous  destroyer,  who  sows  in  wantonness  and  reaps 
in  blood,  whose  dreadful  harvests  are  the  gory  fields,  covered 
with  mangled  corpses,  with  blood-bespattered  faces,  and  sight- 
less glaring  eyes,  fixed  on  the  blue  vault  of  heaven,  as  if  vainly 
appealing  to  the  merciful  God,  who  seems  for  a  time  to  have 
abandoned  his  creation,  and  have  given  it  over  to  be  the  grim 
sport  of  fiends ; — surely  this  dreadful  power  has  its  teachings 
if  we  could  but  glean  them.'  I  could  not  draw  much  comfort 
from  such  scenes  as  these,  did  I  not  have  a  perfect  faith  in  an 
overruling  providence,  who  has  some  plans  laid,  the  founda- 
tions of  which  rest  too  deep  for  common  fathoming. 

There  is  an  awfulness  when  the  tempest  rages,  that  strikes 
many  beholders  with  terror,  from  before  which  the  fowls  of 
heaven  fly  away  to  the  deep,  dark  forests  and  hide  themselves, 
and  the  lowing  herds  sweep  over  hill  and  plain  to  some  shel- 
tered spot;  but  I  see  in  the  sharp  lightning's  flash,  and  I  hear 
in  the  deep-toned  thunder,  the  way  God  takes  to  cleanse  the  air 
and  sweeten  it  for  man.  There  are  very  few  that  look  upon  the 


THE  LESSONS  OF  WAR.  267 

sale  of  Joseph  by  his  brethren,  with  any  sort  of  reconciliation; 
but  when  the  end  is  seen  from  the  beginning,  there  is  a  com- 
pleteness about  it  that  reflects  much  of  the  divine  wisdom  and 
power  of  God,  without  by  any  means  justifying  the  motives  of 
Joseph's  brethren,  or  abating  a  jot  from  their  wickedness ;  but 
Joseph  saw  the  divine  plan  when  he  said  to  his  brethren, '  Now, 
therefore,  be  not  grieved  nor  angry  with  yourselves,  that  ye  sold 
me  hither,  for  God  did  send  me  before  you  to  preserve  life.  So 
now  it  was  not  you  that  sent  me  hither,  but  God,  and  he  hath 
made  me  a  father  to  Pharaoh,  and  lord  of  all  his  house,  and  a 
ruler  throughout  all  the  land  of  Egypt.' 

So  when  the  rebels  fired  on  Fort  Sumter,  and  commenced 
this  terrible  war  for  nothing  else  but  to  perpetuate  slavery, 
God  meant  that  first  gun  for  the  luneral  knell  of  that  horrid 
institution,  and  so  through  the  long  and  bloody  strife  that  was 
meant  to  rivet  the  chains  forever  by  wicked  men,  the  great 
Ruler  of  nations  meant  it  should  strike  them  off,  and  make  this 
great  people  a  nation  of  freemen.  And  so  1  gather  comfort 
from  the  rebellion, — not  that  men  rebelled,  not  that  so  many 
were  slain,  but  that  God  has  overruled  this  war,  and  through  it, 
brought  us  as  a  country  up  to  a  higher  patriotism,  made  us  a 
nobler  people,  a  better  model  for  the  nations  of  the  earth  to 
pattern  after,  and  I  had  helped  to  accomplish  this. 


£68  JOB'S  TURKEY. 


CHAPTER    XXXIII. 


IT  now  remained  for  me  to  lay  my  plans  as  best  I  could  for 
future  operations.  The  war  was  ended.  So  there  was  no  more 
for  me  to  do  in  that  direction ;  but  the  great  fight  was  still  go- 
ing on  between  the  kingdom  of  darkness  and  the  kingdom  of 
light,  and  I  said  to  myself  and  to  my  wife,  I  must  put  myself  in 
fighting  trim  and  go  at  it.  I  must  first  settle  up  all  my  busi- 
ness affairs.  So  this  being  fixed  upon,  I  gave  up  to  my  clamor- 
ing creditors  what  I  once  hoped  to  hold,  my  little  home,  to  be 
divided  among  them  as  far  as  it  would  go.  Some  of  them  did 
not  press  me,  but  others  did.  They  had  kept  quiet  while  I  was 
in  Washington,  expecting  I  should  be  successful  with  my  claims; 
but  when  they  learned  of  my  failure  there,  their  patience  ended, 
and  it  seems  to  be  a  singular  business  fact,  that  when  every- 
body thinks  a  man  has  money  enough,  they  never  feel  in  haste 
about  their  pay;  but  when  they  begin  to  mistrust  that  you  are 
running  a  little  short,  every  man  wants  his  money  to  the  last 
dime.  I  said  to  my  wife,  now  we  have  struck  bottom,  we  will 
put  down  a  stake,  and  then  take  a  fair  start.  I  felt  now  about 
as  poor  as  Job's  turkey,  but  not  quite.  It  has  been  said  of  him 
that  he  was  so  poor  that  he  had  to  lean  up  against  a  tree  to 
gobble.  But  I  did  not  have  to  lean  against  a  tree  to  do  that,  I 
could  gobble  well  enough  without  it  generally,  and  here  I  must 
diverge  a  little,  even  if  I  am  charged  with  not  exactly  sticking 
to  my  text,  for  I  just  no w" remember  when  I  was  a  little  tongue- 
tied  in  New  York  when  asking  for  a  pass  on  one  of  the 
steamers  running  to  Fall  River.  I  ought  to  have  mentioned 


ANECDOTE  OF  FISK.  £69 

this  when  speaking  of  my  labors  in  getting  signers  to  my  peti- 
tion, or  rather  testimonials  to  go  with  my  petition  to  Congress. 

My  motto  has  always  been  to  speak  well  of  a  bridge  that 
carries  a  fellow  over  well,  and  I  should  not  do  a  man  justice, 
who  is  now  no  more,  if  I  did  not  mention  an  interview  I  had 
with  him,  Colonel  Fisk,  of  railroad  notoriety. 

In  the  summer  of  1871,  while  I  was  working  up  the  testimo- 
nials to  be  attached  to  my  petition  to  Congress  for  help,  I  went 
to  Long  Branch  to  see  the  President,  and  not  finding  him  there, 
I  went  to  West  Point  where  I  learned  the  President  had  gone, 
and  met"  him  there.  I  showed  him  the  names  I  had  on  my  list 
of  testimonials,  and  asked  him  for  his  signature.  He  told  me 
it  was  a  big  thing,  and  that  I  had  his  sympathy ;  but  it  would 
not  be  proper  for  him  to  sign  it  until  it  passed  through  Con- 
gress. My  travels  had  cost  me  a  good  deal  of  money,  and  I 
found  I  had  not  money  enough  to  reach  home.  When  I  got 
back  as  far  as  New  York  city  I  had  not  a  dime  left.  I  went  to 
the  telegraph  office,  and  told  the  officer  I  wanted  to  send  a 
telegram  to  Mr.  Carter,  of  Saco,  to  get  him  to  send  me  some 
money  to  get  home  with,  and  asked  him  how  long  it  would  be 
before  I  would  get  an  answer.  He  said  it  would  probably  be 
at  least  four  hours.  It  was  then  after  eight  o'clock  in  the  eve- 
ning. I  told  him  I  did  not  know  what  I  should  do,  I  had  no 
money  to  get  any  supper  or  a  lodging  for  the  night.  He  said, 
'Who  are  you?'  I  told  him  what  my  name  was,  and  that  I 
had  been  getting  some  testimonials  from  officers  in  the  army, 
to  attach  to  a  petition  I  intended  to  present  to  Congress,  for 
some  remuneration  for  my  services  in  the  army,  and  handed 
him  the  list  to  look  over.  After  reading  it  he  said,  '  Sergeant, 
I  will  let  you  have  five  dollars  to  help  you  along,  and  you  can 
pay  me  when  you  get  it.'  With  this  I  got  my  supper  and 
lodging.  It  was  Saturday  night  when  I  got  this  money,  and  I 
paid  out  of  it  for  two  nights'  lodging  and  my  board  over  Sun- 
day. I  made  up  my  mind  that  I  would  go  and  see  Mr.  Fisk, 
the  owner  of  the  line  of  boats  running  to  Fall  River,  and  ask 


270  INTERVIEW  WITH  FISK. 

him  for  a  pass.  I  went  to  the  opera  house  where  he  had  his 
office,  and  saw  the  major  of  Fisk's  regiment,  and  told  him  I 
wanted  to  get  a  pass  on  Mr.  Fisk's  boat.  He  asked  me  who  I 
was.  I  told  him  who  I  was,  and  showed  him  my  documents. 
He  then  told  me  he  could  not  give  me  a  pass,  but  said  he 
wanted  me  to  see  the  colonel.  I  told  him  I  did  not  want  to 
ask  him.  '  I  don't  want  to  go  in,  because  I  have  been  told  that 
he  is  pretty  rough  with  such  fellows  as  I  am,  and  I  feel  bad 
enough  without  being  bluffed.'  He  said  I  was  mistaken.  The 

O  O 

colonel  was  as  good-hearted  a  fellow  as  ever  lived,  and  I  must 
see  him  and  show  him  the  papers  I  had  with  me,  and  he  knew 
Fisk  would  give  me  a  pass ;  and,  turning  to  the  porter  he  said, 
'when  the  colonel  gets  through  reading  his  correspondence, 
take  Sergeant  Ambler  in  to  see  him  tirst,  before  anybody  else.' 

In  a  little  while,  I  should  think  there  were  thirty  people  in 
waiting  for  an  interview.  I  asked  him  why  so  many  were 
waiting  to  see  Mr.  Fisk?  Why,  said  the  major,  these  are  poor 
people  seeking  some  aid  in  some  way  from  him. 

The  porter  came  out  in  a  little  while,  and  said  the  colonel 
was  now  ready  to  see  me.  '  Come  right  in.'  I  went  in  and 
found  him  at  his  desk,  and  gave  him  the  military  salute  in  the 
European  style.  He  bowed  an  acknowledgment,  and  he  said, 
'  Well,  my  man,  what  do  you  want  ? '  I  told  him  I  was  a  little 
hard  up,  and  wanted  to  get  a  pass  on  his  boat.  He  said,  'Who 
are  you  ? '  I  told  him  I  was  Sergeant  Ambler,  and  that  I  had 
been  down  to  Long  Branch  and  West  Point,  to  get  signers  to 
this  petition  (holding  it  in  my  hand)  to  present  to  Congress. 
He  said, '  let  me  look  at  it.'  I  gave  it  to  him  and  he  read  it, 
and  then  he  said,  'Do  you  want  me  to  sign  this?'  I  said,  'No, 
sir,  I  do  not..'  He  then  said, '  What  do  you  want  ? '  I  told  him 
I  just  wanted  a  pass  on  his  boat.  '  Well,'  said  he,  '  why  did 
you  not  ask  General  Grant  for  a  pass?'  I  said,  'Because  I 
would  not  do  it,  sir.'  And  he  said, '  Will  you  ask  Jim  Fisk  for 
a  pass,  before  you  would  ask  General  Grant?'  I  said,  'Yes, 
sir.'  He  then  turned  to  his  clerk  and  said  to  him,  '  Here,  give 


THE  POOR  HELPED.  271 

this  sergeant  ten  dollars,  and  a  pass  on  my  boat.'  He  then  sai  \ 
*  Sergeant,  when  you  go  to  Washington  to  get  your  pension,  como 
and  see  me,'  and  shook  me  heartily  by  the  hand,  and  said, '  you 
are  an  out-spoken  fellow,  and  frank,  and  that  is  what  I  like,' 
and  bid  me  good-day.  I  then  waited  a  while  in  the  outer  room, 
to  see  how  those  others  fared.  Some  dozen  or  more  came  out, 
and  not  one  without  something.  One  old  lady  with  two  chil- 
dren had  received  several  dollars.  Another  old  man  had  got 
five  dollars,  and  several  crippled  soldiers  had  each  received 
substantial  aid,  and  came  out  with  a  smile  on  their  faces,  and  a 
blessing  on  their  lips  for  the  colonel.  As  I  turned  away  from 
the  door,  I  thanked  God  for  what  I  had  seen.  There  was  the 
old,  the  unfortunate,  the  lame,  the  halt,  and  the  blind,  all  of 
them  receiving  aid  and  sympathy  from  this  man.  On  the  very 
morning  I  left  Boston  for  Washington  with  my  petition,  in- 
tending on  my  way  to  call  and  see  the  colonel,  his  dead  body 
was  on  the  way  to  Vermont,  to  its  narrow  home. 

God  had  given  me  a  tongue  and  a  few  brains,  and  with  a 
heart  full  of  love  for  souls  to  propel  things,  I  made  up  my  mind 
that  that  was  so  much  stock  in  trade,  and  with  these  I  would 
go  to  recruiting  and  drilling  men  for  the  kingdom.  The  same 
old  ghost  met  me  at  this  point  that  had  often  met  me  before, 
and  would  not  down  at  my  bidding.  I  must  have  more  educa- 
tion, for  how  could  an  ignorant  man  expect  the  people  to  give 
him  bread,  if  he  was  not  capable  of  instructing  them  to  some 
extent.  I  meant  to  preach  and  study,  and  so  keep  both  irons 
in  the  fire  at  the  same  time.  And  I  must  have  money  some 
way  to  do  it.  I  thought  of  the  sale  of  my  book  that  I  begun 
before  the  war.  The  first  editions  had  been  all  sold,  and  the 
money  had  gone  to  help  '  Uncle  Sam.' 

In  the  great  fire  in  Portland  the  stereotype  plates  and  every 
thing  connected  with  my  book  were  burned  up,  so  I  had  noth- 
ing to  start  on.  I  then  made  up  my  mind  that  if  I  could  get 
out  a  new  edition,  correcting  the  old  and  adding  to  it  what  I 
had  passed  through  since  writing  the  first,  I  could  sell  it  to 


272  PROVIDENCE  HELPS. 

good  advantage.  I  had  formed  a  very  extensive  acquaintance 
during  the  war,  and  I  felt  confident  that  every  man  who  could 
afford  to  invest  a  little  in  good  old  Saxon,  would  buy  one. 
That  was  all  right  so  far,  but  up  starts  the  same  old  ghost,  and 
with  a  sepulchral  tone,  inquired,  'Where  is  your  money  to  do 
it?'  By  this  time  I  had  become  so  familiar  with  this  phantom, 
that  I  s:iid  I'll  go  and  see.  I  went  among  my  friends  and  asked 
their  advice  about  attempting  to  put  out  another  book,  and 
most  of  them  said, '  Go  ahead,  it's  a  good  idea.  Til  buy  one.' 
So  I  went  to  see  the  printer  and  talked  with  him  about  it,  and 
he  approved  of  it,  and  I  talked  around  some  time  before  I  could 
get  cheek  enough  to  ask  him  if  he  would  trust  me  for  the  work 
until  I  could  sell  books  enough  to  pay  him,  and  here  my  heart 
thumped  against  my  ribs  pretty  hard  for  fear  he  would  say  no. 
God  and  the  printer  were  better  than  my  fears,  and  he  an- 
swered, 'Yes,  Ambler,  I'll  trust  you,  for  you  can  sell  it,  and  I 
know  you  will  pay  me  as  soon  as  you  realize  enough  from  the 
sale  to  do  it.'  He  then  put  me  on  the  track  of  a  man  who  was 
at  leisure,  and  was  just  the  man  I  needed  to  help  me  compile 
and  arrange  it  for  the  press.  I  then  went  to  a  publishing  house, 
to  see  if  they  would  take  the  responsibility  to  issue  the  book, 
in  such  numbers  as  would  be  necessary  for  a  fair  business  oper- 
ation, and  God  had  prepared  the  way  somehow,  so  that  they 
were  ready  to  issue  the  work  as  soon  as  it  could  be  prepared, 
and  wait  for  their  pay ;  and  so  with  the  engraver.  They  were 
all  ready,  and  all  willing  to  trust  to  my  honesty  as  to  their  pay. 
It  made  me  think  of  the  boy  whose  father  called  him  up  one 
morning  very  early,  and  told  him  to  saddle  the  horse  and  take 
a  grist  to  the  mill.  It  was  very  foggy,  and  the  boy  told  his 
father  it  was  so  foggy  that  he  was  sure  he  could  not  find  the 
way.  '  Why,  father,  I  can't  see  down  to  the  gate.'  His  father 
said  to  him, '  Oh,  yes,  you  can  my  sou ;  get  on  to  the  old  horse 
and  go  as  far  as  you  can  see,  and  if  you  get  to  a  place  where  you 
can't  see  any  further,  you  can  stop.'  The  boy  started ;  but  the 
fog  lifted  as  he  proceeded,  seeing  just  about  so  far  all  the  time, 


HEAD   WIND  AGAIN.  273 

and  ho  found  no  place  to  stop  until  he  reached  the  mill.  So  in 
my  case.  I  had  a  grist  to  grind,  and  as  I  went  the  fog  kept  lift- 
ing, lifting,  an  1  as  I  stepped  along,  the  way  kept  clearing  for  me 
to  go  further.  Is  it  not  so  in  following  the  leadings  of  Provi- 
dence most  always?  Don't  we  walk  by  faith,  and  not  by 
sight  ? 

1  When  the  Great  Shepherd  leads  the  way, 
Oh,  who  will  fear  to  go; 
From  darkness  into  realms  of  day, 
He  leads  the  journey  through.' 

While  going  along  with  my  book  thus,  apparently  under  easy 
sail,  all  at  once  I  was  struck  aback,  by  a  summons  to  court  by 
Dresser  &  Ayer,  of  Portland,  Maine,  whom  I  was  owing  the 
small  sum  of  twelve  dollars  and  thirty-three  cents,  and  who 
had  promised  to  wait  until  I  got  eased  up  in  my  money  matters, 
so  I  could  conveniently  meet  the  bill.  This  threw  me  into 
Doubting  Castle  for  a  night  or  two,  when  a  good  friend  advised 
me  to  take  the  poor  debtor's  oath,  and  so  block  all  these  hungry 
creatures  that  eat  up  the  poor  as  they  would  eat  bread,  until 
such  a  time  as  I  could  pay  them. 

I  hated  to  do  it;  but  on  viewing  the  whole  matter,  un- 
der all  the  surrounding  circumstances,  I  made  up  my  mind  it 
was  my  duty  to  do  so,  and  that  would  bring  me  down  on  to 
what  the  oil  men  call  'hard  pan,'  and  then  I  would  begin  to 
build  without  molestation,  until  I  could  get  my  head  above 
water,  and  then  I  would  pay  up  all  debts,  and  in  the  mean  time 
give  my  Christian  friends  an  opportunity  to  cultivate  one  of  the 
graces  so  necessary  in  their  case, — I  mean  the  grace  of  patience; 
for  out  of  it  grows  experience,  and  a  man  is  much  improved 
when  patience  has  its  perfect  work ;  and  the  Lord  knew  there 
was  abundant  room  for  improvement  in  their  case. 

Here  is  the  summons.  I  suppose  it  is  nothing  private,  at 
least  it  was  not  so  marked,  and  therefore  I  present  it  in  these 
columns,  and  if  it  is  any  advantage  to  my  friends  to  be  thus 

advertised,  I  will  give  them  the  full  benefit  of  it,  as  freely  as  1 
18 


274  SUMMONS  TO  COURT. 

would  give  them  a  drink  of  cold  water  should  they  ask  it.     1 
am  determined  to  be  generous  as  well  as  just. 

STATE  OF  MAINE. 
YORK,  ss. — To  Isaac  W.  Ambler,  Greeting. 

We  command  you  to  appear  before  our  Judge  of  our  Muni- 
cipal Court  of  the  city  of  Saco,  in  the  County  of  York,  to  be 
holden  at  the  Municipal  Court  room,  in  said  Saco,  in  .said 
County,  on  the  fourth  Tuesday  of  November,  A.  D.  1872,  at 
nine  o'clock  in  the  forenoon,  then  and  there  to  answer  unto 
Aurin  L.  Dresser  and  David  M.  Ayer,  both  of  Portland,  Coun- 
ty of  Cumberland,  and  State  of  Maine,  doing  business  under 
the  firm  name  of  Dresser  &  Ayer,  in  a  plea  of  the  case  as  set 
forth  in  the  writ;  which  plea  the  said  plaintiffs  have  com- 
menced to  be  heard  and  tried  at  the  said  Court,  and  your 
goods  or  estate  are  attached  to  the  value  of  twenty  dollars,  for 
security  to  satisfy  the  judgment  which  the  said  plaintiffs  may 
recover  on  the  aforesaid  trial.  Fail  not  of  appearance  at  your 
peril.  Witness,  Samuel  F.  Chase,  Esq.,  our  said  Judge,  at  Saco 
aforesaid,  the  fourteenth  day  of  November,  in  the  year  of  our 
Lord  one  thousand  eight  hundred  and  seventy-two. 

SAMUEL  F.  CHASE. 

Having  found  out,  in  the  course  of  my  life,  tbat  even  I  might 
be  mistaken,  I  concluded  to  call  on  my  good  friend  Judge  Em- 
ery, of  Saco,  and  ask  his  advice,  and  get  a  little  instruction  how 
to  proceed  in  the  matter.  I  made  a  full  statement  to  him  of 
my  situation,  and  showed  him  my  summons  to  court.  He  ad- 
vised me  in  order  to  save  myself  from  constant  annoyance,  and 
from  being  robbed,  to  take  the  poor  debtor's  oath,  and  go 
through  the  forms  necessary,  and  generously  offered  to  pay  the 
bills. 

It  is  said,  '  pride  and  poverty  go  together,'  and  I  guess  it  is 
true  enough,  for  it  was  very  mortifying  to  my  pride  to  do  this, 
.as  I  always  felt  a  good  deal  of  pride  in  paying  my  bills  when 


THE  TRIAL.  275 

they  became  clue,  and  I  could  only  justify  myself  on  the  ground 
that  in  this  way  only  could  I  ever  pay  my  bills.  That  is,  I 
could  say  to  such  as  would  not  let  me  alone,  '  Hands  off,  gen- 
tlemen, until  I  can  get  breath,  and  then  if  you  can  observe  the 
common  rules  of  decency,  you  shall  all  be  paid  to  the  last 
cent.' 

So  on  the  fourth  Tuesday  of  November,  1872,  at  nine  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  according  to  orders,  I  put  in  my  appearance  at 
court,  as  cited  by  the  summons,  Judge  Emery  appearing  for 
me.  E.  S.  Derby,  Esq.,  of  Saco,  appeared  for  Dresser  & 
Ayer.  I  was  put  upon  the  stand  and  sworn,  Judge  Chase  pre- 
siding. 

Mr.  Derby  opened  the  case  and  put  the  following  questions: 

Ques.  Mr.  Ambler,  what  property  have  you  ? 

Ans.   None. 

Ques.   What  have  you  done  with  your  house? 

Ans.  My  house  had  two  mortgages  on  it  and  the  parties 
foreclosed  and  I  could  not  pay  them,  and  everything  went  to 
pay  my  creditors. 

Ques.  Have  you  a  watch  ? 

Ans.  I  had ;  but  when  I  was  in  Washington  I  had  to  let  it 
go  to  pay  my  bills. 

Ques.  Have  you  no  jewelry,  rings,  etc.  ? 

Ans.   No. 

Ques.   Have  you  made  way  with,  or  covered  anything? 

Ans.  No. 

Ques.   What  have  you  got  ? 

Ans.   Nothing. 

(And  here  the  lawyer,  looking  at  the  judge,  said,  'Mr.  Am- 
bler is  a  strong  man  and  can  earn  it  in  a  little  while,  it  is  only 
$14.10.') 

I  answered  if  I  was  able  to  work  I  would  earn  it  very  quick 
and  pay  it. 

Ques.  Mr.  Ambler,  you  have  a  trade  have  you  ? 

Ans.  Yes,  sir. 


276  TRIAL  CONTINUED. 

Ques.  What  is  your  trade  ? 

Ans.  I  am  a  soldier. 

Ques.  When  did  you  enlist? 

Ans.  Thirty  years  ago,  under  the  Duke  of  Wellington ;  but 
my  business  just  now  is  rather  dull,  and  if  it  was  not,  I  could 
not  do  much. 

Ques.   What  is  the  matter;  you  look  like  an  able-bodied  man? 

Ans.  I  have  lost  the  use  of  my  hand. 

Ques.   What  is  the  matter  with  that  ? 

My  answer  to  this  was  to  take  off  my  glove  and  exhibit  my 
shrunken,  crippled  wrist  and  hand.  Here  the  lawyer,  advanc- 
ing, looked  at  it,  and  turning  to  the  judge  said, '  Your  honor,  I 
did  not  know  Mr.  Ambler  was  a  cripple.' 

Ques.  Mr.  Ambler,  you  have  a  pension  ? 

Ans.  No,  sir. 

Ques.   How  did  you  lose  the  use  of  your  hand  ? 

Ans.   Drilling  officers  of  the  Union  army  in  the  late  war. 

Ques.  And  you  have  no  pension  ? 

Ans.  No,  sir. 

This  closed  the  catechising  on  the  complainant's  side.  Mr. 
Emery  then  asked  me  one  question. 

Ques.  Mr.  Ambler,  have  you  not  a  sword? 

Ans.  Yes,  sir.  It  is  one  I  had  drawn  to  defend  our  flag  when 
marching  through  Baltimore.  It  was  presented  to  me  by  the 
lamented  Colonel  Ellsworth.  I  don't  know  as  I  can  really  call 
it  mine,  I  told  my  boy  if  he  would  commit  to  memory  a  piece 
called  'Bingen  on  the  Rhine,'  and  repeat  it  all  to  me  without 
making  any  mistakes,  I  would  give  him  my  sword.  He  learned 
it  and  repeated  it  to  me  without  a  mistake,  and  I  gave  him  the 
sword. 

This  ended  the  examination.  The  plea  of  Mr.  Derby  was 
very  brief.  My  lawyer  did  not  think  it  necessary  to  reply,  and 
the  court  decided  that  I  was  entitled  to  the  benefit  of  the  poor 
debtor's  oath,  and  I  was  discharged,  and  it  went  upon  the  record 
of  the  court.  So  here  I  found  myself  at  the  bottom  of  the  lad- 


TALK  WITII  THE  LAWYER.  277 

dcr,  and  the  tiling  publicly  acknowledged.  Mr.  Derby,  who 
had  been  doing  the  lawyer,  in  his  plea  against  me,  kindly  walked 
over  with  me  to  the  little  shop,  where  my  wife  is  trying  to  get 
bread  for  us  by  dressmaking  and  a  little  millinery  work,  and 
stopped  and  chatted  a  while.  He  told  me  not  to  entertain  any 
hard  feelings  against  him,  as  he  was  simply  doing  his  duty  for 
his  client.  I  told  him  I  understood  perfectly  his  position,  and 
we  could  not  expect  anything  better  from  a  lawyer  (joking  of 
course),  and  they  needed  pardon,  and  I  hoped  they  would  all 
find  it.  I  showed  my  good  friend  some  of  my  papers,  the  testi- 
monials of  Generals  Hooker,  Burnside,McClellan,  Shepley,Dow, 
and  others,  in  which  lie  was  very  much  interested,  and  when  he 
left  he  said,  'Ambler,  you  are  a  hero,'  and  of  course  he  was 
right.  Who  would  ever  think  of  disputing  with  a  lawyer,  es- 
pecially when  there  was  no  chance  for  a  dispute? 

Well,  here  I  was  down  on  to  'hard  pan,'  and  I  said  to  myself, 
Ambler,  you  are  a  poor  shack  now,  anyhow,  and  I  guess  there 
will  be  none  to  dispute  that  point,  and  so  I  soliloquized  a 
little;  not  just  as  the  rich  man  did,  who  determined  to  pull 
down  his  old  barns  and  build  largely,  so  he  could  have  room 
where  to  bestow  all  his  goods ;  but  I  said  to  myself,  Ambler, 
eat,  drink  (if  thou  can'st  get  anything),  and  take  thine  ease,  for 
there  will  be  no  demands  for  thee  to  pay  at  present.  They  are 
all  settled  pro  tempore.  When,  to  my  astonishment,  the  eve- 
ning of  the  very  same  day  that  I  went  upon  the  record  as  a 
'flat,'  a  townsman,  knowing  it  too,  came  to  my  place  and  pre- 
sented a  bill  of  a  small  balance  which  was  due  him  on  an  ac- 
count, and  said,  'Ambler,  I  am  going  to  keeping  house,  and  if 
you  have  got  any  plates  or  crockery  of  any  kind,  I  will  take  it 
at  its  value  toward  what  you  owe  me.' 

Reader, '  how  is  that  for  high  ? '  Well,  I  said,  wife,  just  give 
this  poor  man  those  half  a  dozen  plates  (we  had  only  six  in  all 
left),  and  I  will  eat  off  the  table  like  a  pig  out  of  his  trough, 
I  should  have  given  them  to  him,  for  I  thought  a  man  thnt 
could  take  the  last  half  dozen  plates  a  poor  fellow  had  to  eat 


278  A   MEAN  DUN. 

off  of,  should  have  them  for  his  cheek,  if  for  nothing  else.  Mrs. 
Ambler,  good  wife  that  she  is,  begged  to  differ  with  me  (how 
presumptuous  these  women  are  since  woman's  lights  have  been 
so  much  discussed),  and  a  protest  from  her  was  the  end  of  that 
man's  crockery  hopes.     I  told  him  I  would  surely  pay  him 
some  time.     '  No,'  he  said, '  I  know  you  can  never  do  a  day's 
work  with  your  arm  to  earn  a  cent,  and  I  shall  have  to  lose  it 
if  you  don't  let  me  have  those  plates.'     I  have  generally  enter- 
tained strong  objections  to  the  developing  doctrine,  that  we 
sprang  from  some  lower  life  like  the  tadpole,  and  so  up  through 
the  mo:ik^y  to  the  man;  but,  I  said,  if  that  is  so,  it  is  pretty 
hard  on  the  tadpoles  and  the  monkeys  that  they  should  have 
to  be  linke.l  to  such  a  specimen  of  littleness.     This  man  had  a 
good  business  and  money  at  interest.     I  will  not  name  him.     I 
only  hope  out  of  pity  for  him,  that  if  he  ever  reads  this  book, 
he  will  put  his  hand  over  this  page,  so  not  to  see  it,  for  if  he 
ever  should  read  this  part  of  his  history,  he  will  want  to  get 
his  neighbors  to  set  up  nights  with  him,  and  help  him  to  hate 
himself.     Well,  it  seems  that  I  am  not  out  of  the  woods  yet, 
and  I  don't  know  as  I  ought  to  expect  to  be  while  here  in  the 
flesh ;  but  of  one  thing  I  am  sure,  and  that  is  this,  if  a  poor  fel- 
low that  has  met  every  mishap  to  which  mortal  man  is  subject 
can  get  out  of  the  woods  by  persevering,  honest  effort,  I  am  the 
man  to  try.     I  believe  there  is  in  providence  something  yet  in 
store  for  me,  and  if  there  is  anything  in  the  saying,  that  God 
helps  those  that  try  and  help  themselves,  I  shall  be  helped.     It 
looks  to  me  yet,  that  God  has  a  work  for  me  to  do,  especially 
when  I  look  back  to  my  commencement  in  life,  and  trace  his 
watchful  hand  over  all  the  strange  road  of  life  thus  far,  through 
all  the  dangers  I  have  met  in  various  parts  of  the  world,  both 
by  sea  and  land,  in  civil  and  in  military  life.     I  hope  my  book 
which  I  now  present,  will  find  a  sale  sufficiently  ready  and  ex- 
tensive to  enable  me  to  procure  such  works  as  I  need,  to  fit  me 
better  to  proclaim  the  glorious  gospel  of  salvation  to  the  poor 
outcast.     Oh,  how  glad  I  am,  that  Jesus  came  not  to  call  the 


PRIVATIONS  OF  THE  POOR.  £79 

righteous,  but  sinners  to  repentance.  My  highest  ambition  is 
to  be  unfettered  by  this  cruel  poverty,  so  to  preach  the  un- 
searchable riches  of  the  kingdom  to  men,  and  to  do  it  without 
fear  or  favor.  This  is  my  faith,  that  I  shall  realize  a  support 
from  this  plain,  truthful,  unvarnished  history  of  my  life,  so  to 
be  independent  of  a  salary,  as  independent  as  Paul  was.  In 
looking  over  the  field  that  is  all '  white  and  ready  fur  the  har- 
vest,' I  am  persuaded,  that  to  be  successful,  much  of  the  modern 
preaching  is  fruitless,  and  that  ministers  and  churches  have  got 
to  disabuse  themselves  of  the  idea,  that  prosperity  consists  in 
getting  a  splendid  church,  with  a  spire  that  kisses  the  skies, 
with  rich  carpets,  expensive  pews  and  altars,  and  grand  organs, 
and  a  trained  choir  to  praise  God  for  them,  and  a  congregation 
numerous  and  rich  enough  to  run  the  machine  and  pay  the  bills, 
and  then  settle  down  at  ease,  and  when  a  poor  man  thinks  of 
joining  them,  give  him  to  understand  that  the  church  is  full.  In 
some  of  our  large  churches,  the  poor  are  barred  out  as  truly  as 
if  the  sexton  stood  at  the  door  and  told  them  they  were  not 
wanted  within,  and  it  is  done  in  this  way.  The  pews  in  some 
churches  are  sold  at  prices  ranging  from  one  hundred  to  a  thou- 
sand dollars,  and  sometimes  several  thousand  dollars,  and  then 
to  meet  the  big  salaries  of  ministers,  choirs,  organists,  sextons, 
and  to  pay  for  fuel,  lights,  repairs,  and  insurance,  the  pews  are 
taxed  from  fifty  up  to  five  hundred  dollars  each.  And  so  heart- 
broken and  discouraged,  the  poor  man,  and  sometimes  the  poor 
members,  are  driven  away,  because  they  can't  support  their 
families  and  pay  such  bills. 

In  saying  these  plain  things,  and  what  may  appear  to  some 
to  be  hard  things,  I  do  it  to  clear  my  conscience,  and  to  strike 
a  blow  in  behalf  of  the  suffering  poor  whose  bitter  experience 
demands  it.  My  own  early  sufferings  are  indelibly  stamped  on 
every  fibre  of  my  being,  and  my  later  trials  have  only  con- 
firmed it;  so  that  who  suffers  '•and  I  burn  not.''  I  would  be 
alike  untrue  to  my  early  experience  and  my  latest  knowledge 
and  awfully  untrue  to  God's  grandest  work,  to  the  travail  of 


280  WAT  TO  DO  GOOD. 

Christ's  great  soul,  if  I  failed  to  do  this.  And  while  I  make 
these  painfully  true  statements  and  send  them  abroad  to  the 
world,  I  make  an  honest  confession,  which  will  be  appreciated 
by  a  very  large  class  of  men,  who  acknowledge  that  we  are 
coming  at  the  truth  and  will  hope  for  a  practical  application  of 
it,  which  may  prove  the  salvation  of  many  souls.  I  would  not 
forget  how  many  noble  men  whom  God  has  blessed  with  wealth, 
are  doing  as  well  as  they  know  for  the  needy,  and  would  do 
more,  much  more,  if  they  could  have  some  practical  hints 
thrown  out  that  would  open  to  them  deeper  and  wider  fields 
for  effort  and  Christian  usefulness,  and  when  they  read  this 
book,  and  see  where  the  hand  can  be  put  to  lighten  the  loads 
of  the  distressed,  will  thank  Ambler  for  pointing  out  the  way, 
in  his  homely  manner,  to  do  good. 

God  sometimes  takes  worms  to  thresh  mountains,  and  it  is 
written  that  *  God  hath  chosen  the  foolish  things  of  the  world 
to  confound  the  wise,  and  God  hath  chosen  the  weak  things  of 
the  world  to  confound  the  things  which  are  mighty.  And  base 
things  of  the  world,  and  things  which  are  despised,  hath  God 
chosen,  yea,  and  things  which  are  not,  to  bring  to  nought  the 
things  which  are ;  that  no  flesh  should  glory  in  his  presence.' 
The  things  which  secure  the  blessings  of  God  are  so  simple, 
that  they  are  often  overlooked.  I  often  think  of  the  terrible 
efforts  a  class  made  once,  to  spell  the  name  of  a  river.  They 
seemed  to  think  that  the  teacher  meant  to  tax  their  ingenuity 
to  the  utmost  when  he  asked  them  to  spell  the  word  Po,  and 
they  tried  every  imaginable  hard  way  to  spell  it,  but  failed ; 
and  when  it  come  to  the  lowest  one  in  his  class  to  try  it,  the 
poor  simple  boy  spelled  it  P-o,  Po,  and  went  to  the  head. 
Sometimes  almost  every  imaginable  hard  way  is  tried  to  love 
God,  and  men  fail  to  do  so  until  they  begin  to  love  men,  and 
when  they  find  them  hungry  and  give  them  bread,  then  they 
for  the  first  time  begin  to  comprehend  the  secret  of  loving 
God.  Now  any  course  that  in  any  way  relieves  and  lightens 
the  loads  that  human  hearts  have  to  bear,  is  so  much  done  to, 
and  for  the  Saviour  of  men. 


MONEYLESS  MAN.  281 

It  is  said  by  some,  *  Ambler,  you  are  wrong,  in  our  rich  and 
costly  churches  we  have  pews  on  purpose  for  the  poor,  and  we 
give  them  sittings,  and  surely  we  are  helping  them,  and  they 
are  charitably  treated ;  they  can  hear  the  gospel  for  the  coming, 
if  they  will  only  consent  to  listen  to  it.'  All  that  is  true  enough, 
but  here  is  where  the  shoe  often  pinches  the  poor  the  hardest. 
They  say  it  is  bad  enough  to  be  poor  without  sitting  them  apart 
in  a  portion  of  the  church  assigned  for  such,  so  that  everybody 
that  comes  in  shall  know  that  they  belong  to  the  poor  class. 
The  poor  like  to  be  thrown  in  among  the  rich  sometimes,  in 
such  a  way  that  their  poverty  may  not  always  be  known ;  and 
it  is  sometimes  very  pleasant  for  them  to  pass  off  among  the 
crowd  without  being  noticed  as  the  poor,  and  I  have  no  doubt 
it  is  sometimes  quite  flattering  to  them  to  be  even  mistaken 
for  persons  in  easy  circumstances. 

'  Is  there  no  place  on  the  face  of  this  earth, 
Where  charity  dwelleth,  where  virtue  hath  birth? 
Where  the  bosom  in  mercy  and  kindness  will  heave, 
And  the  poor  and  the  wretched  may  ask  and  receive  ? 
Where  quickly  a  knock  from  the  needy  and  poor 
Will  bring  some  kind  angel  to  open  the  door? 
Ah,  search  where  you  will,  wherever  you  can, 
There's  no  open  door  for  a  moneyless  man. 

'  Go  look  in  yon  hall  where  the  chandelier's  light 
Drives  off  with  its  splendor  the  darkness  of  night ; 
Where  the  rich  hanging  velvets  in  shadowy  folds 
Sweep  gracefully  down  with  their  trimmings  of  gold. 
Aye,  look  in  that  hall,  and  find  if  you  can, 
A  welcoming  smile  for  a  moneyless  man. 

'  Go  look  in  yon  church  with  its  cloud-reaching  spire, 
That  throws  back  to  the  sun  its  reflection  of  fire; 
Where  the  arches  and  columns  are  gorgeous  within, 
And  the  walls  seem  as  pure  as  a  soul  without  sin. 
Then  walk  down  the  aisles,  see  the  rich  and  the  great, 
In  the  pomp  and  the  pride  of  their  wordly  estate ; 
Then  go  to  their  dwellings,  and  find  if  you  can 
A  welcoming  look  for  a  moneyless  man. 


282  MONEYLESS  MAN. 

'  Go  look  at  yon  judge  with  his  dark  flowing  gown, 
And  the  scales  of  the  law  weighing  equally  down, 
Who  frowns  on  the  weak  and  smilos  on  the  strong, 
And  punishes  right,  whilst  he  justifies  wrong; 
Where  the  jurors  their  lips  on  the  Bible  have  laid, 
To  render  a  verdict  they've  already  made. 
Go  there  in  that  court-room,  and  find  if  you  can, 
Any  law  for  the  cause  of  a  moneyless  man. 

'  Go  look  in  yon  bank  where  mammon  has  told 
His  hundreds  and  thousands  of  silver  and  gold, 
Where  safe  from  the  hands  of  the  starving  and  poor, 
Lie  heaps  upon  heaps  of  the  glittering  ore. 
Walk  up  to  the  counter;  ah,  there  you  may  stay, 
Till  your  limbs  shall  grow  old  and  your  hairs  shall  turn  gray; 
For  you'll  find  at  the  bank  not  one  of  the  clan, 
With  a  dollar  to  lend  to  a  moneyless  man. 

'Then  go  to  your  hovel  where  no  raven  has  fed 
The  wife  who  has  suffered  so  long  for  her  bread, 
Kneel  down  by  her  pallet  and  kiss  the  death  frost 
From  the  cold  icy  forehead  of  her  you  have  lost. 
Then  turn  to  the  motherless  babes  that  are  left, 
Of  money  and  friends  they  are  wholly  bereft; 
Not  one  in  a  hundred  will  lend  you  a  hand, 
But  turn,  oh  how  coldly,  from  a  moneyless  man.' 

A  revolution  has  got  to  come  off  in  our  churches,  as  radical 
as  ever  took  place  in  the  country,  to  purify  them  and  put  them 
upon  the  ground  where  they  can  gather  in  the  poor  as  well  as 
the  rich,  and  do  the  work  set  for  them  by  the  Master.  We  have 
no  objection  to  good  buildings,  rich  and  comfortable,  if  the  re- 
ligion of  the  church  and  Christianity  is  not  sacrificed  thereby,  and 
worship  in  these  churches  made  so  expensive  as  to  drive  the  poor 
entirely  from  them.  How  men  can  sit  and  enjoy  themselves, 
and  feel  no  pricking  in  their  consciences  amidst  such  gorgeous 
surroundings,  when  the  very  splendor  about  them  bars  out  God's 
poor,  and  leaves  them  a  prey  to  any  outside  influence  that  cor- 
ruption can  bring  to  bear  upon  them,  I  can't  see.  Some- 
thing must  be  *  rotten  in  Denmark.'  Consciences !  are  there  any 


OTHERS  THINK  AS  I  DO,  283 

among  such?  It  has  become  really  a  question  with  many 
thoughtful  men,  and  lest  my  reader  shall  think  it  only  a  little 
spleen  of  mine  to  say  such  things,  I  will  quote  from  the  Chris- 
tian  Union,  Vol.  VI,  No.  23,  a  brief  article  headed  '  Con- 
science of  Religious  Societies?  and  reads  thus :  '  I  make  no  com- 
plaint of  religious  societies,  for  I  have  experience  enough  among 
them  to  know  that  they  are  open  to  the  same  objections  of  cor- 
porations in  general.  They  are  not  responsible.  They  have  no 
souls.  They  will  do,  in  their  corporate  capacity,  what  every  in- 
dividual of  them  would  be  ashamed  to  do  as  a  private  citizen. 
Do  I  not  know  what  small  minorities,  what  little  unscrupulous 
factions,  often  control  them.  How  many  excellent,  devoted,  long- 
tried  ministers  have  been  sacrificed  by  nine-tenths  of  their  mem- 
bers, to  conciliate  and  retain  less  than  one-tenth,  and  those  often 
of  the  most  bigoted  and  over-bearing  character?  How  often 
have  I  seen  the  best  people  in  those  societies,  the  most  liberal 
and  progressive,  giving  up  everything  to  the  worst  and  most 
illiberal  for  the  sake  of  peace  and  harmony,  which  they  never 
get?  How  often  have  I  seen  the  old  national  compromises  of 
slavery  acted  over  again  here  with  similar  results !  There  is 
and  can  be  no  peace  with  despotism  of  any  kind ;  but  that  of 
death,  on  one  side  or  the  other?  How  true !  Thei'e  are  indi- 
vidual consciences  working  in  some  of  the  members ;  but  these 
are  stifled  to  some  extent,  lest  they  shall  be  called  factious,  and 
so,  rather  than  to  raise  the  alarm  and  take  the  consequences  of 
a  little  commotion,  they  allow  themselves  to  drift  along,  when 
to  a  thoughtful  and  observing  mind  the  roar  of  the  breakers  is 
already  heard,  and  the  seething  waters  will  soon  close  over 
them  unless  they  wake  to  hear  the  cry  of  Jesus,  in  the  wants 
and  neglect  of  the  poor.  Is  it  not  a  fact,  that  Christ  is  barred 
from  many  a  church  ?  It  is  a  painful  fact,  or  God's  word  is  a 
farce.  Oh,  with  what  astonishment  neglecters  of  God's  poor 
will  wake  up !  '  When  the  Son  of  Man  shall  come  in  his  glory 
and  all  the  holy  angels  with  him,'  and  shall  say  to  them,  'I  was 
a  stranger,  and  ye  took  me  not  in ;  naked,  and  ye  clothed  me 


284  MY  EXPERIENCE. 

not ;  sick,  and  in  prison,  and  ye  visited  me  not.'  Oh,  what  will 
it  avail  them,  when  they  shall  answer  him, '  saying,  Lord,  when 
saw  we  thee  a  hungered,  or  athirst,  or  a  stranger,  or  naked,  or 
sick,  or  in  prison,  and  did  not  minister  unto  thee?  Then  shall 
he  answer  them,  saying,  Verily  I  say  unto  you,  inasmuch  as  ye 
did  it  not  to  one  of  the  least  of  these,  ye  did  it  not  to  me. 
And  these  shall  go  away  into  everlasting  punishment  j  but  the 
righteous  into  life  eternal.' 

If  I  know  anything  of  the  love  of  God,  it  is  to  love  and  pity 
the  poor,  and  to  comfort  and  raise  them  up.  How  much  com- 
fort and  how  much  encouragement  it  was  to  me,  when  I  was  a 
poor  drunkard  and  under  conviction  for  sin,  to  have  Rev.  Mr. 
Pike  take  me  by  the  hand  and  say,  *  God  bless  you.'  I  was 
like  the  poor  man  journeying  from  Jerusalem  to  Jericho.  I 
had  fallen  among  thieves.  I  had  been  stripped,  and  wounded, 
and  left  half  dead.  I  had  seen  the  priest  go  by  on  the  other 
side,  and  also  the  Levite,  both  turning  up  their  noses  at  poor 
drunken  Ambler;  both  with  flowing  robes  and  lofty  mien, — 
dignity  enough  to  scare  a  man,  while  over  such  mockery  the 
enemies  of  God  rejoiced,  and  loud  the  unbeliever  laughed, 
boasting  a  life  of  fairer  character  than  theirs ;  but  when  the 
good  Samaritan  took  me  by  the  hand,  and  into  my  poor  bruised 
and  wounded  soul  poured  sympathy,  in  such  golden  words,  and 
recognized  me  as  a  fellow  man,  it  gave  me  hope  and  comfort, 
and  waked  in  my  heart  holy  purposes  of  reform,  with  fullest 
faith  through  God  I  should  do  valiantly,  and  come  off  a  con- 
queror and  a  man,  yea,  a  Christian. 

I  had  seen  enough  of  this  hollow-hearted  mockery,  these 
whited  sepulchres,  to  make  me  feel  as  though  a  general  protest 
should  be  entered  against  it  all ;  and  I  thought  if  the  devil  did 
not  get  them, — I  mean  all  those  that  are  like  graves  which  ap- 
pear not,  for  the  life  of  me  I  could  not  see  any  use  in  having 
any  devil.  I  said,  am  I  alone  in  this  feeling,  in  this  seeing  ? 
Am  I  a  misanthrope  ?  When  picking  up  Pollok's  Course  of 
Time,  I  read  of  Priests  and  Levites  in  language  that  seemed 


MY  EXPERIENCE.  285 

on  fire.  His  indignation  burned  in  looking  at  those  who  'swore 
away  all  love  of  filthy  lucre,  all  desire  of  earthly  pomp,  and 
yet  a  princely  seat  they  liked,  and  to  the  clink  of  Mammon's 
box  gave  most  rapacious  ear,'  until  in  language  of  awful  mean- 
ing he  cried  of  such,  '  Most  guilty,  villainous,  dishonest  man ! 
Wolf  in  the  clothing  of  the  gentle  lamb !  Dark  traitor  in  Mes- 
siah's holy  camp !  Leper  in  saintly  garb !  Assassin  masked  in 
virtue's  robe !  Vile  hypocrite  accursed !  I  strive  in  vain  to 
set  his  evil  forth.  The  words  that  should  sufficiently  accurse 
and  execrate  such  reprobate,  had  need  come  glowing  from  the 
lips  of  eldest  hell.  Among  the  saddest  in  the  den  of  woe. 
Thou  sawest  him  the  saddest,  'mong  the  damned  most  damned? 
I  had  seen  so  much  of  this  awful  separateness,  this  '  stand  thou 
yonder,  for  I  am  holier  than  thou,'  and  I  had  felt  so  much  of 
this  spirit  of  '  touch  me  not  lest  I  be  defiled,'  that  after  my 
conversion,  my  heart  went  out  so  after  the  lost  sheep,  that  in 
pity  and  in  tears  I  sought  them,  and  many  a  home  have  I  made 
happy.  I  was  impressed  deeply  with  the  fact,  that  to  fill  God's 
house,  Christian  men  and  women  must  go  out  into  the  high- 
ways and  hedges  and  compel  them  to  come  in,  with  loving 
hearts,  and  with  the  gentleness  and  charity  of  Jesus,  win  them 
away  from  death  to  life,  talking  with  them  of  our  own  escape, 
remembering  our  own  follies  and  pitying  them  in  theirs,  and 
making  always  only  this  difference.  That  we  are  all  short- 
comers,  and  that  while  one  is  pardoned  and  happy  in  hope,  the 
other  may  be,  if  he  will  only  repent  and  believe.  Oh,  in  this 
way  how  many,  how  many  might  be  brought  in  to  the  fold  who 
are  now  lost  sheep !  Never  was  I  more  forcibly  struck  with 
what  seemed  to  me  to  be  the  real  work  of  Christian  men,  than 
in  observing  the  result  of  the  earnest  efforts  of  some  Christians 
in  Portland,  who  go  down  on  the  wharves  to  talk  to  men,  and 
into  an  old  sail-loft  on  Sabbath  mornings  to  talk  and  pray  with 
whoever  will  come  in,  and  then  go  over  to  the  jail  to  weep 
with  the  poor  unfortunates  there,  and  pray  with  them  and  tell 
them  of  the  Saviour's  love,  and  take  them  by  the  hand  with  a 


286  CHRISTIAN    WORKERS. 

warm  grasp  that  means  good-will,  and  give  them  good  advice 
and  assure  them  if  they  will  only  try  to  do  right,  they  shall 
have  their  sympathy,  and  they  will  gladly  recognize  them  too 
on  the  street,  and  when  they  come  to  the  meeting,  as  brothers 
for  whom  a  Saviour  bled.  And  many  of  these  unfortunates 
have  got  converted  and  are  now  living  epistles  of  God's  power. 
It  would  seem  that  in  this  age  of  light,  such  a  work  would  be 
fcucouragcd,  especially  by  every  minister.  Yet  when  one  min- 
ister in  Portland,  who  shall  be  nameless,  was  approached  con- 
cerning this  very  work  of  visiting  the  poor  prisoners  in  the  jail, 
answered  with  a  sneer,  that  he  did  not  take  any  stock  in  that 
concern.  "Well,  thank  God,  there  are  men  who  are  just  glad  to 
invest  all  their  powers  to  do  good  in  that  direction,  and  feel 
that  it  pays,  and  will  pay,  especially  when  it  shall  be  said  at 
last,  'inasmuch  as  ye  have  done  it  unto  the  least  of  one  of 
these,  ye  have  done  it  unto  me.'  I  cannot  name  the  good  men 
who  take  all  the  stock  they  can  handle,  as  God's  stewards,  in 
the  jails,  on  the  wharves,  out  in  the  highways  and  hedges,  be- 
side the  sick-bed,  in  the  hovel,  among  the  drunken,  and  who 

Tell  him  hope  doth  yet  remain, 
If  he  only  will  abstain. 

I  will  not  name  the  men  whose  goodness  is  sometimes  ques- 
tioned by  those  whose  very  rottenness  of  heart  is  the  standard 
by  which  they  judge  other  and  better  men,  when  they  see  a  team 
hitched  by  some  poor  dwelling  where  people  live  who  nre  not 
all  angels ;  but  the  record  of  these  Christian  workers  is  kept  by 
him  who  watches  with  eager  eyes  the  pilgrim  who  fears  not  to 
go  where  lives  a  soul  for  whom  the  Saviour  died,  to  carry  with 
him,  into  those  abodes  of  poverty  and  death  the  light  of  God's 
wondrous  love.  These  men  have  a  bulwark,  a  tower  of  strength 
to  keep  them  from  seduction  and  death,  and  fear  not  the  re- 
proach of  men ;  but  with  an  inward  purpose  they  go  forth  to 
meet  the  demands  of  the  outcast  and  despised  for  whom  Christ 
died.  *  How  much  is  this  like  the  work  of  Christ  I  But  the  race 


GOOD  STOCK.  287 

of  the  Pharisees  is  not  all  dead.  There  arc  lots  of  these  old 
double  and  twisted  hypocrites,  that  act  just  as  their  old  fathers 
did.  How  very  like!  Just  go  back  nearly  nineteen  hundred 
years  ago,  and  see  Jesup  sitting  '.it  veat  :n  tne  house,  behold 
many  publicans  and  sinners  came  and  sat  down  with  him  and 
his  disciples.  And  when  the  Pharisees  saw  it,  they  g«iu  tmto 
his  disciples,  Why  eateth  your  Master  with  publicans  and  sin- 
ners,' which  means  substantially,  we  don't  take  any  stock  in 
that  company.  *  But  when  Jesus  heard  £/.«**  r<?  saia  tinto  them: 
they  that  be  whole  need  not  a  physician,  but  they  'that  are 
sick.'  See  how  Christ  rebuked  these  ignorant  bigots,  not  that 
they  were  not  learned  in  the  law,  and  understood  Hebrew,  and 
Greek  and  Latin;  but  they  were  ignorant  of  the  first  rudiments 
of  Christianity.  Hear  the  Master  put  the  burning  truth,  blis- 
tering hot,  to  these  old  villains.  '  But  go  ye  and  learn  what  that 
meaneth,  I  will  have  mercy  and  not  sacrifice ;  for  I  am  not  come 
to  call  the  righteous,  but  sinners  to  repentance.'  That's  the 
company  I  take  stock  in.  That's  the  company  Captain  S.  takes 
stock  in,  and  I  should  not  wonder  if  he  should  ask  some  of  my 
readers,  when  they  come  to  Portland,  to  go  to  jail  with  him. 
If  he  does,  go  right  along  doubting  not,  and  if  he  asks  you  to 
take  a  little  stock  in  his  enterprise  of  getting  shoes  to  cover 
the  little  bare  feet  of  the  children,  and  good  comfortable  clothes 
for  them,  so  they  can  go  to  Sunday  School  and  appear  respect- 
ably on  the  street,  or  to  get  a  coffin  for  some  poor  soul  and  pay 
the  funeral  charges  so  they  can  be  decently  buried,  don't  be 
afraid  to  go  your  bottom  dollar.  It  will  pay  better  than  any 
stock  on  change.  It  yields  a  hundred  per  cent  in  this  life,  and 
in  the  world  to  come  life  everlasting.  My  reader  will  see  the 
point  I  am  driving  at,  and,  of  course,  will  allow  me  to  swing 
round  a  little,  and  make  my  appeal  in  behalf  of  God's  poor. 


288  SERMON  ON  THE  LOST  SHEEP. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 


WHILE  reading  some  of  these  suggestions  in  my  manuscript 
about  the  poor,  and  the  way  to  do  them  good,  the  work  that 
had  got  to  be  done  to  get  men  from  the  highways  and  hedges 
into  the  house  of  God,  and  the  revolution  that  is  needed  in  the 
churches  to  get  them  into  working  order,  to  some  of  my  friends 
before  the  book  was  finished,  they  said  to  me, '  Ambler,  those 
are  God's  truths.  Oh,  how  much  might  be  done,  if  good  men 
would  only  go  among  the  poor  and  see  them  in  their  homes,  so 
to  know  how  to  pity  them  and  help  them !  Ambler,  I  want 
you  to  preach  a  sermon  in  your  book  right  on  this  very  matter, 
and  I  want  to  give  you  a  text.  It  is  this:' 

LUKE   16:  8-7. 

And  he  spake  this  parable  unto  them,  saying,  WJiat  man  of  you  having  a 
hundred  sheep  if  he  lose  one  of  them,  doth  not  leave  the  ninety  and  nine 
in  the  wilderness,  and  go  after  that  which  is  lost  until  he  find  itf  And 
when  he  hath  found  it  he  layeth  it  on  his  shoulders,  rejoicing.  And 
when  he  cometh  home,  he  calleth  together  his  friends  and  neighbors,  say- 
ing unto  them,  rejoice  with  me  ;  for  I  have  found  my  sheeji  which  was 
lost.  I  say  unto  you,  that  likewise  joy  shall  be  in  heaven  over  one  sinner 
that  repenteth,  more  than  over  ninety  and  nine  just  persons  which  need 
no  repentance. 

Well,  I  said,  I  will,  and  so  wherever  this  book  goes,  there 
goes  the  sermon  on  the  lost  sheep.  Indeed  my  narrative  is  of 
lost  sheep.  I  knew  how  to  pity  them.  I  was  a  lost  sheep 
in  a  howling  wilderness,  and  had  been  torn  by  the  djgs  a:ul 


SERMON  O.V  THE  LOST  SHEEP.  289 

wolves  in  a  terrible  manner;  but  the  good  Shepherd  found  me, 
and  took  me  in  his  arms  and  brought  me  back  to  his  fold.  I 
hope  my  whole  book  goes  to  show  how  much  the  poor  stray 
lambs  suffer,  and  will  lead  many  to  come  to  the  good  Shepherd, 
who  giveth  his  life  for  the  sheep.  It  won't  be  expected  that  a 
poor  man  like  me,  who  never  attended  school  a  day  in  my  life, 
will  be  very  scholastic,  or  very  methodical  in  laying  out  my 
subject,  an;l  discussing  it  in  all  its  details.  I  don't  think  much 
of  the  position  which  some  men  take  in  making  a  sermon,  viz., 
that  it  must  be  clear  at  all  events,  even  though  it  be  cold  enough 

'  O  O 

to  freeze  the  warmest  and  deepest  fountains  of  the  human  heart. 
I  go  for  a  warm  sermon,  if  it  is  not  so  handsome.  I  almost 
offended  my  printer  in  the  matter  of  the  title-page  of  this  book, 
on  this  very  point.  He  has  a  fine  eye  for  the  artistic,  and 
pointed  out  to  me  a  portion  I  had  prepared  for  the  title-page 
which  he  wanted  left  out,  as  the  page  would  be  so  crowded  as 
to  mar  its  beauty,  its  artistic  design  ;  and  I  had  to  differ  with 
him,  and  told  him  that  he  made  me  think  of  some  ministers 
who  thought  more  of  making  their  sermons  clear  than  of  mak- 

O  O 

ing  them  effectual,  and  who  were  determined  that  the  sermon- 
izer  should  stand  out  prominently  in  the  foreground,  if  the  de- 
sire to  save  souls  from  death  did  not  once  appear  in  the  whole 
effort.  It  is  like  playing  Hamlet,  with  Hamlet  left  out.  I  said 
to  my  printer,  don't  strike  out  that  portion  of  my  title-page 
where  it  says  '  The  whole  illustrating  the  fact  with  which  we 
start,  T/iat  truth  is  stranger  than  fiction,  and  much  more  healthy 
for  the  morals  of  the  people?  for  that  is  the  gist  of  the  whole 
thing.  I  want  the  moral  to  appear,  if  the  artist  is  wholly  lost 
sight  of,  so  if  the  title-page  should  seem  to  be  a  little  crowded, 
the  reader  will  lay  it  all  to  Ambler,  and  not  question  the  taste 
of  the  printer.  In  presenting  to  my  readers  the  marrow  and 
fatness  of  this  long  text,  I  shall  tie  myself  down  upon  nobody's 
iron  bedstead,  and  if  I  should  not  be  able  to  make  as  many 
heads  to  my  sermon  as  the  beast  had  which  was  described  in 
the  apocalypse,  I  shall  not  be  sorry.  My  object  is  to  make 
19 


290  SERMON  ON  THE  LOST  SHEEP. 

known  what  the  Saviour  designed  to  teach  by  this  beautiful 
parable.  The  better  it  is  understood,  the  more  attractive  and 
overpowering  appears  the  loving  heart  of  the  good  Shepherd. 
Oh,  ye  wandering  sheep, hear  his  voice.  'I  am  the  good  Shep- 
herd ;  the  good  Shepherd  giveth  his  life  for  the  sheep.  But  he 
that  is  a  hireling,  and  not  the  shepherd,  whose  own  the  sheep 
are  not,  seeth  the  wolf  coming  and  leaveth  the  sheep,  and 
fleeth;  and  the  wolf  catcheth  them,  and  scattereth  the  sheep. 
The  hireling  fleeth,  because  he  is  a  hireling  and  careth  not  for 
the  sheep.  I  am  the  good  Shepherd,  and  I  lay  down  my  life  for 
the  sheep,  and  other  sheep  I  have  which  are  not  of  this  fold. 
Them  also  I  must  bring,  and  they  shall  hear  my  voice ;  and 
there  shall  be  one  fold  and  one  Shepherd.'  He  don't  go  out 
with  dogs  and  a  club  to  worry  and  beat  them,  and  drive  them 
back  and  fill  them  with  terror;  but  calls  after  them, '  Come  unto 
me,'  ye  hungry  starving  ones.  I  am  the  good  Shepherd.  The 
wolves  will  catch  and  scatter  you  if  you  continue  to  wander, 
the  hireling  fleeth,  he  don't  care  for  you  when  the  wolf  comes, 
when  distress  comes  upon  you,  because  he  is  a  hireling ;  but  I 
love  you,  poor, lonely,  wandering  ones;  cold  mountains  and  the 
midnight  air  witnesseth  it,  though  it  be  a  bitter  cup,  I  lay  down 
my  life  for  the  sheep. 

I  am  not  a  thief.  The  thief  comes  to  steal  and  destroy. 
Hear  the  Prophet  Ezekiel  in  the  thirty-fourth  chapter.  '  And 
the  word  of  the  Lord  came  unto  me,  saying,  Son  of  man 
prophesy  against  the  shepherds  of  Israel,  prophesy  and  say 
unto  them,  Thus  saith  the  Lord  God  unto  the  shepherds,  wo 
be  to  the  shepherds  of  Israel  that  do  feed  themselves !  Should 
not  the  shepherds  feed  the  flock  ?  Ye  eat  the  fat  and  ye  clothe 
yourselves  with  the  wool,  ye  kill  them  that  are  fed,  but  ye  feed 
not  the  flock.  The  diseased  have  ye  not  strengthened ;  neither 
have  ye  healed  that  which  was  sick ;  neither  have  ye  bound 
up  that  which  was  broken ;  neither  have  ye  brought  again  that 
which  was  driven  away ;  neither  have  ye  sought  that  which 
was  lost ;  but  with  force  and  with  cruelty  have  ye  ruled  them, 


SERMON  ON  THE  LOST  SHEEP.  291 

and  they  were  scattered  because  there  is  no  shepherd  (that 
careth  for  them),  and  they  became  meat  to  all  the  beasts  of 
the  field  when  thtfy   were   scattered.     My   sheep   wandered 
through  all  the  mountains,  and  upon  every  high  hill:  yea,  my 
flock  was  scattered  upon  all  the  face  of  the  earth,  and  none 
did  search  or  seek  after  them.     Therefore,  ye  shepherds  hear 
the  word  of  the  Lord ;  thus  saith  the  Lord  God,  Behold,  I  am 
ag.iinst  the  shepherds  (unfaithful  ones),  and  I  will  require  my 
flock  at  their  hand,  and  cause  them  to  cease  from  feeding  the 
flock;  neither  shall  the  shepherds  feed  themselves  any  more; 
for  I  will  deliver  my  flock  from  their  mouth,  that  they  may  not 
be  meat  for  them.   Behold  I,  even  I,  will  both  search  my  sheep, 
and  seek  them  out.     As  a  shepherd  seeketh  out  his  flock  in  the 
day  that  he  is  among  his  sheep  that  are  scattered ;  so  will  I 
seek  out  my  sheep,  and  will  deliver  them  out  of  all  places 
where  they  have  been  scattered  in  the  cloudy  and  dark  day. 
And  I  will  bring  them  out  from  the  people,  and  gather  them 
from  the  countries,  and  will  bring  them  to  their  own  land  and 
feed  them  upon  the  mountains  of  Israel  by  the  rivers,  and  in 
all  the  inhabited  places  of  the  country.    I  will  feed  them  in  a 
good  pasture,  and  upon  the  high  mountains  shall  their  fold  be ; 
there  shall  they  lie  in  a  good  field,  and  in  a  fat  pasture  shall 
they  feed.     I  will  feed  my  flock.     I  will  seek  that  which  was 
lost,  and  bring  again  that  which  was  driven  away,  and  will 
bind   up   that  which   was   broken    (glory  to  God),  and  will 
strengthen  that  which  was  sick ;  but  I  will  destroy  the  fat  and 
the  strong  (hear  that  ye  hirelings).     I  will  feed  them  with 
judgment.     Seemeth  it  a  small  thing  unto  you  that  ye  have 
eaten  the  good  pasture;  but  must  ye  foul  the  residue  Avith 
your  feet?    Because  ye  have  thrust  with  side  and  with  shoul- 
der, and  pushed  all  the  diseased  with  your  horns  until  ye  have 
scattered  them  abroad.     Therefore  will  I  save  my  flock,  and  I 
will  set  up  one  shepherd  over  them,  and  he  shall  feed  them, 
even  my  servant  David ;  he  shall  feed  them,  and  he  shall  be 
their  shepherd.'     Glorious  shepherd  that!     The  bleating  of  the 


292  SERMON  ON  THE  LOST  SHEEP. 

scattered  and  lost  ones  find  pity  in  him.  I  suppose  a  great 
and  grand  object  is  presented  in  this  parable,  which  constitutes 
the  text  and  the  substance  for  discussion."  I  take  it,  that  tlie 
lost  sheep  spoken  of,  means  especially  the  poor  sinner  totally 
gone  astray.  And  as  I  am  not  a  born  theologian,  but  rather 
of  a  martial  turn,  and  having  been  trained  to  a  soldier's  lite, 
I  shall  not  divide  my  subject  into  firstlies  and  so  on  up  to  the 
eighteenthlies;  but  shall  arrange  it  rather  as  I  would  drill  a 
company.  I  will  put  my  thoughts  into  sections,  and  if  neces- 
sary, into  divisions,  any  way  that  the  order  of  truth  may  be 
preserved  in  the  mind  of  the  reader,  and  the  details  followed 
out  from  the  sections,  into  what  divisions  may  be  needful. 
Therefore,  calling  my  thoughts  men,  I  will  put  them  into  four 
sections. 

First  section,  then,  to  the  front.  What  is  meant  by  the  lost 
sheep  ? 

The  second  section  to  be  drilled  a  little  in  the  way  to  find  the 
lost  sheep. 

The  third  section  to  receive  some  attention  as  to  the  preju- 
dices to  be  met,  and  what  men  have  to  endure  in  finding  the 
lost  sheep. 

The  fourth  section  will  receive  attention  as  a  victor  return- 
ing home  bearing  the  lost  sheep,  and  the  joy  of  the  multitude 
over  what  has  been  found. 

First  section,  attention!  What  is  meant  by  the  lost  sheep? 
There  are  some  men  who  imagine  that  the  term  lost  sheep 
applies  to  man  generally,  and  the  ninety  and  nine,  that  the 
good  shepherd  leaves  when  he  goes  for  the  lost  one,  means  the 
angels  who  have  not  fallen,  and  that  they  are  in  proportion  to 
men,  as  ninety  and  nine  to  one,  and  these  are  the  just  persons 
that  needeth  no  repentance.  This  opinion  is  entitled  to  some 
respect.  It  is  at  least  ingenious,  and  it  may  not  be  untrue ; 
but  to  my  mind  there  are  some  objections  to  it.  It  is  true  that 
angels  who  have  kept  their  first  estate  need  no  repentance,  and 
it  is  probably  true,  that  there  are  outbursts  of  joy  when  a  sin- 


SERMON  ON  THE  LOST  SHEEP.  293 

ner  breaks  from  the  destroyer  and  is  converted,  more  than  over 
ninety-nine  angels  who  have  always  been  happy  in  the  home 
and  service  of  God,  as  we  should  see,  for  an  illustration,  on 
board  a  ship,  although  there  may  be  a  thousand  souls  on  board ; 
yet  if  one  of  their  number  falls  overboard,  the  ship  is  hove  to, 
and  boats  are  lowered  and  manned  while  the  struggling  man 
is  buffeting  with  the  waves;  all  are  watching  with  painful  inter- 
est the  receding  form  of  the  strong  swimmer,  until  the  boat 
reaches  him,  when,  as  he  is  lifted  in,  the  shout  goes  up,  'a  man 
saved.'  There  is  enthusiasm  and  wild  delight  over  his  rescue, 
not  that  he  is  of  more  importance  than  others ;  but  that  being 
lost,  he  is  now  saved. 

The  way  some  dispose  of  this  view,  of  who  is  meant  by  the 
ninety-nine  sheep,  is  this.  *  The  text  says  just  persons.  Now 
angels  are  not  persons,  therefore  angels  can't  be  meant.'  A  very 
silly  objection  this,  for  there  is  likely  to  be  personality  to  an 
angel,  as  well  as  to  a  man.  Clark  says  the  original  word  sim- 
ply meant  just  ones,  and  the  term  applies  with  as  much  pro- 
priety to  angels  as  to  men;  but  there  were  good  men  who  were 
not  profligate,  that  may  be  meant  by  the  just  persons  in  opposi- 
tion to  a  Gentile,  or  a  heedless,  open  sinner.  The  Jews  had  many 
distinctions  of  this  kind  in  their  writings.  A  great  many  had  been 
brought  up  to  a  regular  sober  course  of  life,  and  being  true  and 
just  in  their  dealings,  they  differed  materially  from  the  heathen 
about  them  (see  the  first  verse  of  this  chapter).  As,  therefore, 
these  just  persons  are  put  over  against  the  extortioners  and 
heathen,  they  needed  no  repentance  in  comparison  with  the 
others.  But  let  us  be  safe  in  this  matter.  I  think  the  Gentiles 
are  particularly  referred  to.  It  was  thought  to  be  altogether 
aside  from  God's  plan  to  save  a  Gentile,  and  many  very  good 
men  thought  so.  Good  old  Cornelius  and  Peter  thought  so. 
Let  us  read  Acts  10th, 'There  was  a  certain  man  in  Cesarea 
called  Cornelius,  a  centurion  of  the  band  called  the  Italian 
band.  A  devout  man,  and  one  that  feared  God  with  all  his 
house,  which  gave  much  alms  to  the  people,  and  prayed  to  God 


294  SERMON  ON  THE  LOST  SHEEP. 

always.  Ho  saw  in  a  vision,  evidently,  about  the  ninth  hour  of 
the  day,  an  angel  of  God  coming  in  to  him,  and  saying  unto 
him,  Cornelius.  And  when  he  looked  on  him,  he  was  afraid, 
and  said,  What  is  it,  Lord  ?  And  he  said  unto  him,  Thy  prayers 
and  thine  alms  are  come  up  for  a  memorial  before  God.  And 
now  send  men  to  Joppn,  and  call  for  one  Simon,  whose  surname 
is  Peter,  lie  lodgeth.with  one  Simon  a  tanner,  whose  house  is 
by  the  sea-side;  he  shall  tell  thee  what  thou  oughtest  to  do.' 
This  separate  feeling  was  chronic  even  among  these  good  old 
souls,  and  nothing  short  of  God  Almighty,  with  angels,  visions, 
and  all  manner  of  four-footed  things,  could  beat  it,  into  them,  how 
these  lost  sheep  could  be  found. 

'And  when  the  angel  which  spake  unto  Cornelius  was  de- 
parted, he  called  two  of  his  household  servants,  and  a  devout 
soldier  of  them  that  waited  on  him  continually ;  and  when  he 
had  declared  all  these  things  unto  them,  he  sent  them  to  Joppa. 
On  the  morrow,  as  they  went  on  their  journey,  and  drew  nigh 
unto  the  city,  Peter  went  up  upon  the  house-top  to  pi'ay,  about 
the  sixth  hour.  And  he  became  very  hungry,  and  would  have 
eaten ;  but  while  they  made  ready,  he  fell  into  a  trance,  and 
saw  heaven  opened,  and  a  certain  vessel  descending  unto  him, 
as  it  had  been  a  great  sheet  knit  at  the  four  corners,  and  let 
down  to  the  earth ;  wherein  were  all  manner  of  four-footed 
beasts  of  the  earth,  and  wild  beasts,  and  creeping  things,  and 
fowls  of  the  air.  And  there  came  a  voice  to  him,  Rise,  Peter; 
kill,  and  eat.  But  Peter  said,  Not  so,  Lord ;  for  I  have  never 
eaten  anything  that  is  common  or  unclean.  And  the  voice 
spake  unto  him  again  the  second  time,  What  God  hath  cleansed 
that  call  not  thou  common.  This  was  done  thrice.  Now,  while 
Peter  doubted  in  himself  what  this  vision  which  he  had  seen 
should  mean,  behold,  the  men  which  were  sent  from  Cornelius 
had  made  inquiry  for  Simon's  house,  and  stood  before  the  gate, 
and  called,  and  asked  whether  Simon,  which  was  surnamed  Pe- 
ter, were  lodged  there. 

*  While  Peter  thought  on  the  vision,  the  Spirit  said  unto  him, 


SERMON  ON  THE  LOST  SHEEP.  295 

Behold,  three  men  seek  thee.  Arise,  therefore,  and  get  thee 
down,  and  go  with  them,  doubting  nothing;  for  I  have  sent 
them.  Then  Peter  went  down  to  the  men  which  were  sent 
unto  him  from  Cornelius ;  and  said,  Behold,  I  am  he  whom  ye 
seek ;  what  is  the  cause  wherefore  ye  are  come  ?  And  they  said, 
Cornelius,  the  centurion,  a  just  man,  and  one  that  feareth  God, 
and  of  good  report  among  all  the  nation  of  the  Jews,  was 
warned  from  God  by  a  holy  angel,  to  send  for  thee  into  his 
house,  and  to  hear  words  of  thee.  Then  he  called  them  in 
and  lodged  them.  And  on  the  morrow  Peter  went  away  with 
them,  and  certain  brethren  from  Joppa  accompanied  him.  And 
on  the  morrow  after,  they  entered  into  Cesarea.  And  Cornelius 
waited  for  them,  and  had  called  together  his  kinsmen  and  near 
friends.  And  as  Peter  was  coming  in,  Cornelius  met  him,  and 
fell  down  at  his  feet,  and  worshipped  him.  But  Peter  took  him 
up,  saying,  Stand  up ;  I  myself  also  am  a  man.  And  as  he 
talked  with  him,  he  went  in,  and  found  many  that  were  come 
together.'  Now  Peter  begins  to  preach  like  a  Christian  minis- 
ter, just  hear  him,  'And  he  said  unto  them,  Ye  know  how  that 
it  is  an  unlawful  thing  for  a  man  that  is  a  Jew  to  keep  company 
with,  or  come  unto  one  of  another  nation ;  but  God  hath  showed 
me  that  I  should  not  call  any  man  common  or  unclean.  There- 
fore came  I  unto  you  without  gainsaying,  as  soon  as  I  was  sent 
for ;  I  ask,  therefore,  for  what  intent  ye  have  sent  for  me  ? '  Then 
Cornelius  told  him  the  whole  story  about  what  he  experienced 
when  he  was  praying,  the  answer  God  gave  him,  and  how  God 
had  sent  him  to  Peter  for  further  instruction. 

'  Then  Peter  opened  his  mouth,  and  said,  of  a  truth  I  per- 
ceive that  God  is  no  respecter  of  persons;  but  in  every  nation, 
he  that  feareth  him  and  worketh  righteousness,  is  accepted 
with  him.  The  word  which  God  sent  unto  the  children  of  Is- 
rael, preaching  peace  by  Jesus  Christ  (he  is  Lord  of  all) ;  that 
word,  I  say,  ye  know,  how  God  anointed  Jesus  of  Nazareth 
with  the  Holy  Ghost  and  with  power ;  who  went  about  doing 
good  and  healing  all  that  were  oppressed  of  the  devil;'  and  so 


296  SERMON  ON  THE  LOST  SHEEP. 

led  out  was  Peter  when  he  threw  off  his  old  Jewish  prejudice, 
and  spoke  without  notes  as  the  Spirit  led  him,  that  it  is  said, 
'While  Peter  yet  spake  these  words,  the  Holy  Ghost  fell  on  all 
them  which  heard  the  word,  and  they  of  the  circumcision 
which  believed  were  astonished,  as  many  as  came  with  Peter, 
because  that  on  the  Gentiles  also  was  poured  out  the  gift  of 
the  Holy  Ghost.' 

So  my  readers  will  see  the  sheep,  the  lost  sheep,  has  particular 
reference  to  the  Gentiles,  outsiders,  the  despised  and  the  poor. 
When  Peter  got  back,  after  preaching  this  revival  sermon,  they 
that  were  of  the  circumcision  took  a  miff  at  it,  and  contended 
with  him,  saying,  *  Thou  wentest  in  to  men  uncircumcised,  and 
didst  eat  with  them ! '  But  Peter  rehearsed  the  matter  from 
the  beginning,  telling  his  experience,  and  all  about  the  vision, 
and  what  a  glorious  time  he  had  preaching  to  the  Gentiles,  and 
he  said, '  As  I  began  to  speak,  the  Holy  Ghost  fell  on  them,  as 
on  us  at  the  beginning,'  and  then  he  said,  '  I  remembered  the 
word  of  the  Lord,  how  that  he  said,  John  indeed  baptized  with, 
water ;  but  ye  shall  be  baptized  with  the  Holy  Ghost.  Foras- 
much, then,  as  God  gave  them  the  gift  as  he  did  unto  us  who 
believed  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ ;  what  was  I  that  I  could 
withstand  God?'  When  they  heard  Peter's  explanation,  and 
found  that  he  would  not  back  down  from  this  liberal  doctrine, 
it  is  said,  'they  held  their  peace,  and  glorified  God,  saying, 
Then  hath  God  also  to  the  Gentiles  granted  repentance  unto 
life.' 

Having  handled  my  first  section  and  shown  who  are  the  lost 
sheep,  it  may  go  to  the  rear,  until  I  get  ready  to  bring  up  my 
reserves  for  a  final  charge.  I  will  now  take  up  the  second  sec- 
tion for  a  little  skirmishing  after  the  lost  sheep. 

As  I  understand  it,  the  nature  of  the  sheep  should  be  well 
studied,  especially  of  a  lost  sheep, — the  sinner  totally  gone 
astray.  A  stray  sheep  is  a  simple  creature  in  a  special  sense. 
When  pursued  by  dogs  and  wolves,  and  knowing  themselves 
to  be  completely  separated  from  the  flock,  they  as  readily  run 


SERMON  ON  THE  LOST  SHEEP.  297 

in  an  opposite  direction  from  the  fold  and  right  into  danger 
and  destruction,  as  toward  home  and  the  flock. 

How  complete  a  type  is  the  lost  sheep  of  the  poor,  heedless, 
thoughtless  sinner.  The  sheep  is  the  simplest  of  all  animals 
as  to  its  ability  to  find  its  way  back  to  the  fold.  The  swine, 
without  any  apparent  uneasiness  or  effort,  will  root  around  and 
at  last  join  the  herd;  but  the  sheep  that  has  been  separated 
from  the  flock,  gives  by  its  movements  indications  of  its  being 
astray,  and  yet  apparently  without  the  least  judgment  which 
way  to  go  to  find  the  flock,  or  safety,  and  in  its  wildness  and 
fear,  will  run  from  a  friend  as  quickly  as  from  a  foe.  Yet  it  is 
often  heard  bleating  for  the  flock,  and  uneasy,  feeding  a  few 
moments  apparently  careless  of  its  lost  condition,  yet  startled 
by  the  falling  leaf,  and  wild  with  fright  at  the  baying  of  the 
dog,  or  the  howling  of  the  wolf.  There  is  no  creature  that  so 
much  needs  a  good  shepherd  to  go  after  it,  that  is  so  incapable 
of  finding  its  way  back.  I  have  often  heard  the  poor  creatures 
bleating  afar  off  upon  the  sides  of  the  mountains,  after  the 
night  had  set  in,  and  running  in  an  opposite  direction,  running 
right  into  danger  among  the  very  enemies  it  fears.  There  is 
nothing  so  defenceless,  no  sight  so  sad.  Even  the  fowls  have 
been  known  to  pick  out  the  eyes  of  wandering  lambs,  and  then 
the  poor  blind  things  are  destroyed  by  the  birds  of  prey  at 
their  leisure.  In  this  way  the  devil  seeketh  whom  he  may  de- 
vour. He  blinds  them  with  motes  and  beams  with  which  he 
fills  their  eyes,  and  then  worries  and  destroys  them.  All  ways 
seem  alike  to  the  poor  blind  wanderer. 

There  is  no  creature  we  seek  that  requires  to  be  sought  after 
with  so  much  care  and  caution.  A  great  many  times  we  have 
to  speak,  and  with  a  gentle  winning  voice  to  these  frightened 
straying  ones,  to  convince  them  that  it  is  the  voice  of  a  friend, 
and  not  of  an  enemy ;  and  it  is  often  necessary  to  take  a  little 
salt  along,  and  let  them  taste  it  often,  before  they  will  let  you 
take  them  in  your  arms  and  bring  them  to  the  fold.  In  order 


298  SERMON  ON   THE  LOST  SIIEEP. 

to  handle  my  second  section  fully  and  finish  up  the  instructions 
which  I  wish  to  give  on  this  point,  I  will  pnt  it  into  divisions* 

1.  Whatever  else  you  may  lack,  let  there  be  no  lack  of  pity 
for  the  unfortunate.     In  affliction,  the  heart  cries  out  for  this. 
Job,  in  his  distress,  cried  out,  'Have  pity  upon  me,  have  pity 
upon  me,  O  ye  my  friends,  for  the  hand  of  God  hath  tout-lied 
me."     Solomon  says,  'He  that  hath  pity  on  the  poor  lendeth  to 
the  Lord.'     This  is  not  a  pity  in  word,  but  in  deed ;  often   a 
loaf  of  bread,  a  pair  of  shoes,  a  dress,  a  warm  g.innent  is  a 
regular  John  to  prepare-  the  way  of  the  Lord,  and  many  a  heart 
has  been  reached  through  the  back,  or  an  empty  stomach,  th:it 
all  the  fine  things  a  man  could  say  could  not  reach.     'Like  as 
a  father  pitieth  his  children,  so  the  Lord  pitieth  them  that  fear 
him.'     If  a  soul  has  erred,  don't  break  his  teeth  with  it;  but 
tell  him  of  Jesus  and  his  compassion.     Oh,  think  how  weary 
and  foot-sore  and  hungry  the  poor  sheep  may  be ;   see  tlie 
beautiful  fleece  torn  and  hanging  in  shreds,  and  as  the  good 
shepherd  has  borne  with  you,  so  try  to  help  the  poor  wanderer 
over  the  rough  way  back  to  the  fold.     Lay  the  bruised  and 
wounded  one  on  your  shoulder,  and  bear  it  along,  carry  them 
in  your  arms,  any  way  to  get  them  home. 

2.  Let  your  voice  be  that  of  the  good  shepherd.    The  wan- 
dering sheep  know  the  voice  of  love,  and  it  wins  them.     It  is 
hard  to  fight  against  it.     1  will  not  name  the  man ;  but  I  know 
a  man  who  once  went  to  visit  a  sick  man  to  pray  with  him, 
and  when  he  got  to  the  house,  things  looked  as  though  the 
family  were  suffering  for  things  to  make  them  comfortable,  and 
the  man,  before  he  knelt  down  to  pray,  put  a  few  dollars  into 
the  hand  of  the  sick  man,  and  then  prayed,  and  that  prayer 
reached  the  ear  of  Jehovah,  and  the  heart  of  the  poor  uncon- 
verted man;  like  Cornelius,  the  prayers  and  alms  done  the 
work,  and  the  sick  man  was  made  comfortable,  and  converted 
too. 

Get  the  dear  children  of  the  poor,  and  put  good  warm  clothes 
on  them,  and  bring  them  into  Sunday  school,  and  learn  them 


SERMON  ON  THE  LOST  SIIEEP.  299 

to  sing  sweet  songs,  and  to  speak,  arid  teach  them  of  Christ; 
tell  them  all  about  the  good  Shepherd,  how  he  carries  the  lambs 
in  his  bosom,  and  see  what  it  will  help  you  to  do.  Take  the 
lamb  from  the  wildest  mother  in  your  arms,  and  carry  it  along, 
and  the  old  sheep  will  follow.  They  won't  be  separated.  How 
often  I  have  got  the  little  children  of  the  poor  and  clothed 
them  up  nice,  and  got  them  into  the  Sunday  school,  and  got 
them  to  singing  their  little  hymns,  and  pretty  soon  the  mother 
would  come  in ;  and  the  next  I  would  see  would  be  the  father ; 
sly  as  a  wandering  sheep,  he  would  just  slip  inside  of  the  door, 
and  pop  right  down  in  the  first  seat  he  came  to,  already  to  take 
his  hrtt  and  leave,  if  anybody  hardly  looked  that  way;  and  yet, 
in  a  little  while,  by  gentle  approaches,  was  reached  and  saved. 
Thank  God,  the  lost  may  be  found  if  a  man  will  only  lay  him- 
self out  for  the  work. 

My  third  division  under  the  second  section  is  this:  Dorft  go 
pell-mell  at  a  poor  wandering  sheep,  and  tell  him  he  is  the 
wickedest  man  in  the  world,  and  if  he  d<>rit  make  a  rush  for 
the  fold  he  will  be  damned;  but  use  good  judgment  in  your 
approaches.  There  is  no  work  that  requires  good  common 
sense  more  than  the  work  of  finding  the  lost  sheep  an-1  getting 
them  back  to  the  fold.  It  is  said,  4  he  that  winneth  souls  is 
wise,'  which  means  that  it  requires  wisdom  and  prudence.  I 
can't  illustrate  what  I  want  to  make  plain  better  than  to  tell 
you  a  story  about  the  good  Shepherd.  He  traveled  a  great 
deal,  and  often  got  weary  in  the  work.  When  traveling  on 
foot  from  Judea  clown  into  Galilee,  he  got  as  far  as  Samaria, 
and,  being  wearied  with  his  journey,  he  sat  down  on  the  curb 
at  the  well  to  rest,  having  traveled  several  hours  in  the  heat 
and  dust.  It  was  now  about  noon,  and  while  resting  on  the 
well,  a  woman  of  Samaria  came  to  the  well  to  draw  water.  Je- 
sus did  not  begin  to  tell  her  what  a  sinner  she  had  been, 
although  she  was  a  hard  case ;  but  he  introduced  himself  by 
asking  her  for  a  drink  of  water.  I  don't  suppose  a  Jew  ever 
thoughtthislostsheepcould.be  saved,  and  probably  this  was 


300  SERMON  ON  THE  LOST  SHEEP. 

the  first  time  that  ever  one  condescended  to  speak  with  her,  for 
she  was  astonished,  and  said,  *  How  is  it  that  thou,  being  a  Jew, 
askest  drink  of  me,  which  am  a  woman  of  Samaria?  for  the 
Jews  have  no  dealings  with  the  Samaritans.'  This  woman,  by 
this  wise  introduction,  became  at  once,  as  you  see,  an  inquirer 
and  the  good  Shepherd  said,  'If  thou  knewest  the  gift  of  God, 
and  who  it  is  that  saith  to  thee,  Give  me  to  diink,  thou  would'st 
have  asked  of  him,  and  he  would  have  given  thee  living  water.' 
This  opened  the  way  for  further  conversation ;  so  the  woman 
said,  *  Sir,  Give  me  this  water,  that  I  thirst  not,  neither  come 
hither  to  draw.'  She  wanted  the  water  of  life  and  asked  for  it, 
thank  God;  but  it  did  not  end  there.  She  was  bidden  to  go  call 
her  husband.  This  was  a  pretty  hard  thrust;  but  she  could 
bear  it  now,  as  she  had  got  interested  in  her  teacher ;  but  she 
said,  'I  have  no  husband,'  and  this  was  true;  but  Jesus  told 
her  just  what  she  had  been,  until  she  cried  out,  *  Sir,  I  perceive 
that  thou  art  a  prophet ; '  and  when  Jesus  explained  the  whole 
matter, '  the  woman  left  her  water-pot  and  went  her  way  into 
the  city,  and  saith  to  the  men :  Come,  see  a  man  that  hath  told 
me  all  things  that  ever  I  did;  is  not  this  the  Christ?  Then 
they  went  out  of  the  city  and  came  unto  him.'  His  disciples 
when  they  got  back  marvelled  that  he  talked  with  the  woman, 
but  it  was  just  like  him. 

Here,  then,  is  the  pattern  for  you  and  I.  Don't  be  afraid  to 
talk  with  the  most  abandoned,  and  don't  feel  as  though  you  are 
not  accomplishing  anything  because  the  first  talk  may  not  be 
directly  on  the  subject  of  religion.  That  poor  lost  sheep  may 
go  away  and  say,  that  ejood  man  did  not  feel  himself  too  good 
to  speak  to  me,  and  will  put  himself  or  herself  in  the  way  again, 
on  purpose  to  be  talked  with,  and  to  ask  questions.  That  poor 
lost  sheep  has  been  saying,  perhaps,  in  great  sadness, '  no  man 
careth  for  my  soul ; '  but  now  inwardly  they  say  here  is  an  ex- 
ception. This  man  does  care  for  me.  And  they  will  tell  such 
their  sorrows,  and  confess  to  them  their  need  of  religion,  and 
then  go  and  tell  their  friends  to  come  and  see  a  man  that  ia 


SERMON  ON  THE  LOST  SHEEP.  301 

looking  after  the  lost  sheep,  and  he  will  help  them  to  find  the 
fold.  Whole  sermons  would  fail  to  tell  of  all  the  ways  to  find 
the  lost  sheep ;  but  I  must  leave  this  to  give  some  attention  to 
my 

Third  section — viz.,  The  prejudices  to  be  met,  and  what  one 
has  to  endure  in  going  after  the  lost  sheep. 

Let  no  one  think  the  road  he  has  got  to  travel,  in  hunting 
up  the  lost  sheep,  is  strewn  with  flowers.  My  first  division 
of  this  section  is  this :  The  inward  prejudice  to  be  overcome. 
It  is  natural  for  good  men  to  aspire  to  higher  circles,  and  it  is 
very  pleasant  to  go  with  and  commune  with  such  as  we  think 
better  than  ourselves,  and  often  there  is  felt  an  inward  horror 
of  mingling  with  the  multitude  that  are  reeking  in  filth  and 
moral  death ;  but  when  the  soul  is  enlarged  it  will  say,  *  I  will 
run  in  the  way  of  the  commandments,'  until  with  proper  views 
of  Christ's  mission,  its  strongest  consolation  is  drawn  from  its 
earnest  working  in  the  hovels  of  the  poor,  and  preaching  Jesus 
to  the  outcasts,  the  prisoners,  and  the  neglected.  When  Christ 
talked  with  that  woman  at  the  well,  and  the  disciples  came  and 
prayed  him  to  eat, '  He  said,  I  have  meat  to  eat  that  ye  know 
not  of.  Therefore  the  disciples  said  one  to  another,  Hath  any 
man  brought  him  aught  to  eat  ?  Jesus  saith  unto  them,  My 
meat  is  to  do  the  will  of  him  that  sent  me,'  and  he  then  said 
to  the  disciples,  just  'lift  up  your  eyes,  and  look  on  the  fields; 
for  they  are  white  already  to  harvest.'  Oh,  the  sweetness  of 
that  kind  of  sanctification,  that  finds  its  meat  in  this  blessed 
work.' 

Division  second  of  third  section.  To  make  a  bolt  from  the 
ordinary  course  lays  a  man  liable  to  be  misunderstood,  and  of- 
ten to  bitter  persecution.  Jesus  was  called,  in  derision,  a  friend 
of  publicans  and  sinners,  because  he  did  not  heartily  denounce 
them,  and  send  down  fire  from  heaven  upon  them ;  but  hear 
him  defend  himself.  To  the  scribes  and  Pharisees,  lawyers  and 
chief  priests,  he  says,  '  Go  ye  and  learn  what  that  meaneth,  I 
will  have  mercy  and  not  sacrifice ;  for  I  am  not  come  to  call  the 


802  SERMON  ON  THE  LOST  SHEEP. 

righteous,  but  sinners  to  repentance.'  They  that  bo  whole 
need  not  a  physician,  but  they  that  are  sick.'  And  for  nothing 
else  but  tins  was  he  finally  put  to  death.  See  the  good  old  apos- 
tle Paul  in  bonds  before  Agrippa,  telling  his  experience.  He 
was  as  much  a  Pharisee  as  the  fattest  of  them;  but  the  light 
from  heaven  had  shown  him  this  wondrous,  this  glorious  truth, 
that  Jesus  Christ  came  into  the  world  to  save  sinners,  of  whom 
he  was  chief,  and  now  sec  what  he  had  to  meet  and  endure,  in 
going  after  the  lost  sheep.  lie  shall  tell  his  own  story,  for  you 
would  hardly  believe  it  from  the  lips  of  any  other  mortal.  It 
is  said  in  Acts  16th, 'They  caught  Paul  and  Silas  and  drew 
them  into  the  market-place,  unto  the  rulers,  and  the  magistrates 
rent  off  their  clothes,  and  commanded  to  beat  them.  And  when 
they  had  laid  many  stripes  upon  them,  they  cast  them  into  pris- 
on.' A  great  many  whippings  the  old  man  got,  and  he  says  if 
the  Jews  are  ministers,  'I  am  more.  In  labors  more  abundant, 
in  stripes  above  measure,  in  prisons  more  frequent,  in  deaths  oft. 
Of  the  Jews  five  times  received  I  forty  stripes  save  one.  Thrice 
was  I  beaten  with  rods,  onco  was  I  stoned,  thrice  I  suffered 
shipwreck,  a  night  and  a  day  I  have  been  in  the  deep;  in  jour- 
neyings  often,  hi  perils  of  waters,  in  perils  of  robbers,  in  perils 
by  mine  own  countrymen,  in  perils  by  the  heathen,  in  perils  in 
the  city,  in  perils  in  the  wilderness,  in  perils  in  the  sea,  in  per- 
ils among  false  brethren,  in  weariness  and  painfulness,  in  watch- 
ings  often,  in  hunger  and  thirst,  in  fastings  often,  in  cold  and 
nakedness.'  No  wonder,  oh,  no  wonder  the  good  old  man  could 
say,  'Who  is  weak,  and  I  am  not  weak?  who  is  offended,  and  I 
burn  not?'  That  glorious  old  soldier  knew  how  to  pity  Tiis 
comrades  in  affliction,  because  of  his  own  bitter  experience. 
Are  the  disciples  sometimes  dodging  their  pursuers,  and  taxing 
their  wits,  and  their  friends,  to  get  away  from  wicked  men  ?  So 
am  I,  says  Paul, '  I  had  to  go  through  a  window  in  a  basket,  and 
be  let  down  by  the  wall  to  escape  out  of  their  hands.' 

Third  division  of  section  three.     Christian  men  are  not  now 
beaten  with  stripes,  put  in  prisons,  stoned  and  dragged  out  of 


SERMON  ON  THE  LOST  SHEEP.  30(5 

cities,  and  left  half  dead.  Thank  God  that  time  has  gone  by; 
but  they  are  subject  to  keener  weapons,  against  which  it  seems 
there  is  no  law  of  men.  The  slanderer  still  lives,  and  swings 
his  lip  against  the  disciple  with  terrible  malignity,  and  it  cuts 
the  sensitive  soul  deeper  than  whips.  No  wonder  Pollok,  in 
his  Course  of  Time,  is  moved  with  indignation,  and  thus  draws 
his  picture  in  these  words : 

'  Slander,  the  foulest  whelp  of  sin,  the  man 
In  whom  this  spirit  entered,  was  undone. 
His  pillow  was  the  peace  of  families  destroyed, 
His  tongue  was  set  on  fire  of  hell,  his  heart 
Was  black  as  death,  his  legs  were  faint  with  haste 
To  propagate  the  lie  his  soul  had  framed. 
From  door  to  door  you  might  have  seen  him  speed, 
Or  placed  amid  a  group  of  gaping  fools, 
And  whispering  in  their  ears  with  his  foul  lips, 
Devising  mischief  more,  and  early  rose, 
And  made  most  hellish  meals  of  good  men's  names, 
Peace  fled  the  neighborhood  in  which  he  made 
His  haunts,  the  prudent  shunned  him  and  his  house 
As  one  who  had  a  deadly  moral  plague.' 

I  have  known  a  good  man  to  go  among  the  base  and  low 
and  despised  to  talk  to  the  lost  sheep  of  the  good  shepherd, 
and  how  he  will  take  the  lame  and  the  sick  and  carry  them  in 
his  arms,  and  the  next  day  by  some  of  the  devil's  watch-dogs 

it  was  reported  that  brother was  seen  to  go  into  a  house 

x>f  ill-fame  and  spend  a  half  an  hour. 

This  is  a  trying  position  for  a  sensitive,  good  man,  who 
thinks  none  the  less  of  a  good  reputation  because  he  has  aspired 
to  be  a  Christian ;  and  often  more  than  he  ever  did  before,  be- 
cause he  had  rather  die  than  wound  the  cause  of  his  Master. 
Shall  he  cease  to  go  on  his  merciful  efforts,  because  Slander 
opens  wide  his  mouth,  and  breathes  over  his  good  name  the 
mildews  of  death  and  hell  ? 

Nay,  my  good  brother.  Go  wherever  lives  a  soul  to  be  saved, 


804  SERMON  ON  THE  LOST  SHEEP. 

the  chicfest  of  sinners,  Christ  died  for  them ;  but  go  clothed 
with  the  panoply  of  God.  With  him  for  your  front  guard,  and 
your  rear  wall,  nothing  shall  harm  you.  You  may  tread  on 
deadly  things  if  God  be  with  you. 

Christ  talked  with  the  woman  at  the  well,  pardoned  another 
convicted  of  crime,  risking  everything,  even  the  cause  so  dear 
to  him,  stemming  the  flood  that  was  poured  out  against  him  for 
his  pity  for  the  fallen.  The  scribes  and  Pharisees  were  great 
sticklers  for  outward  purity,  and  wanted  to  eternally  settle  a 
case  against  him,  so  to  bring  him  into  disrepute,  and  blacken  this 
merciful  religion,  and  they  put  their  heads  together  and  fixed 
up  a  case,  and  then  took  their  time  when  he  was  in  the  temple 
preaching,  and  brought  in  a  woman  whom  they  said  was  taken 
in  adultery,  'and  when  they  had  set  her  in  the  midst,  they  said 
unto  him,  Master,  this  woman  was  taken  in  adultery,  in  the 
very  act.  Now  Moses  in  the  law  commanded  us  that  such 
should  be  stoned;  but  what  sayest  thou?  This  they  said 
tempting  him,  that  they  might  have  to  accuse  him.''  Jesus 
made  as  though  his  thoughts  were  upon  something  else.  '  So 
they  continued  asking  him,  he  lifted  up  himself  and  said  unto 
them,  He  that  is  without  sin  among  you,  let  him  first  cast  a 
stone  at  her.  And  again  he  stooped  down  and  wrote  on  the 
ground.  And  they  which  heard  it,  being  convicted  by  their 
own  consciences,  went  out  one  by  .one,  beginning  at  the  eldest 
even  unto  the  last.'  A  pretty  sight  that,  not  one  of  these  old 
hypocrites  could  stand  the  test!  All  of  them  had  been  in  the 
snme  boat,  with  only  this  difference, — the  woman  had  been 
caught,  and  they  had  not.  How  Jesus  punctured  these  old 
vacillating  theological  gas-bags!  After  they  had  gone, 'when 
Jesus  lifted  up  himself,  and  saw  none  but  the  woman,  he  said 
unto  her,  Woman,  where  are  those  thine  accusers?  hath  no 
man  condemned  thee  ?  She  said,  No  man,  Lord.  And  Jesus 
said  unto  her, Neither  do  I  condemn  thee;  go,  and  sin  no  mores 
In  the  heart  of  Jesus  there  was  forgiveness  for  this  lost  sheep. 
She  was  no  doubt  penitent,  and  desired  forgiveness,  and  the 


SERMON  ON  THE  LOST  SHEEP.  3Q5 

blessed  Master  dismissed  her  with  this  injunction  '•sin  no  more,' 
and  she  went  away  in  peace,  no  doubt,  with  a  strong  purpose 
to  lead  a  good  life.  There  is  often  more  hope  of  a  genuine  re- 
form, a  true  practical  Christianity  among  such,  than  of  these 
old  unsympathizing,  self-conceited  bigots,  and  Jesus  said  unto 
them,  Matt.  21 :  31,  'Verily  I  say  unto  you,  That  the  publicans 
and  the  harlots  go  into  the  kingdom  of  God  before  you.' 

Then  go,  Christian  comrades,  go  after  the  lost  sheep.  The 
world  can't  say  worse  things  of  you  than  they  did  of  the  Cap- 
tain of  our  salvation.  As  he  went,  they  said,  'Behold  a  glut- 
tonous man,  and  a  winebibber,  a  friend  of  publicans  and  sinners.' 
They  cannot  say  worse  things  of  you.  Say,  comrade,  did  you 
ever  notice  how  grateful  these  poor  lost  sheep  are  to  their  ben- 
efactors? How  they  thank  God  for  the  kind  word  and  look  that 
won  them  back  to  the  fold! 

Let  me  call  your  attention  to  the  gratitude  of  one  whom 
Christ  had  helped  and  saved.  When  Captain  Jesus  went  and 
sat  down  to  meat  in  the  house  of  a  Pharisee,  'Behold,  a  woman 
in  the  city,  which  was  a  sinner,  when  she  knew  that  Jesus  sat 
at  meat  in  the  Pharisee's  house,  brought  an  alabaster  box  of 
ointment,  and  stood  at  his  feet  behind  him  weeping,  and  began 
to  wash  his  feet  with  tears,  and  did  wipe  them  with  the  hairs 
of  her  head,  and  kissed  his  feet,  and  anointed  them  with  the 
ointment.'  Dear  thankful  soul!  but  when  the  Pharisee  saw  it, 
he  said, '  This  man,  if  he  were  a  prophet,  would  have  known 
who  and  what  manner  of  woman  this  is  that  toucheth  him;  for 
she  is  a  sinner.  Jesus,  answering,  said  unto  him,  Simon,  I  have 
somewhat  to  say  unto  thee.  And  he  saith,  Master,  say  on. 
There  was  a  certain  creditor  which  had  two  debtors,  one  owed 
five  hundred  pence,  the  other  fifty,  and  when  they  had  nothing 
to  pay,  he  frankly  forgave  them  both.  Tell  me,  therefore,  which 
of  them  will  love  him  most  ?  Simon  answered,  I  suppose  that 
he  to  whom  he  forgave  most.  Jesus  said,  thou  hast  rightly 
judged.  And  he  turned  to  the  woman,  and  said  unto  Simon, 
seest  thou  this  woman  ?  I  entered  into  thine  house,  thou  gavest 
20 


306  SERMON  ON  THE  LOST  SHEEP. 

me  no  water  for  my  feet;  but  she  hath  washed  my  feet  with 
tears  (precious  drops)  and  wiped  them  with  the  hairs  of  her  head. 
Thou  gavest  me  no  kiss ;  but  this  woman,  since  the  time  I  came 
in,  hath  not  ceased  to  kiss  my  feet.  My  head  with  oil  thou  didst 
not  anoint ;  but  this  woman  hath  anointed  my  feet  with  ointment. 
Wherefore,  I  say  unto  thee,  Her  sins,  which  are  many,  are  for- 
given, for  she  loveth  much.' 

So  down  go  these  old  prejudices.  See  how  these  poor 
souls,  you  have  thought  there  was  no  mercy  for,  love  when  the 
gospel  reaches  them.  Some  of  the  disciples  were  indignant, 
and  when  they  could  find  fault  with  nothing  else  they  said,  'To 
what  purpose  is  this  waste?  For  this  ointment  might  have  been 
sold  for  much  and  given  to  the  poor.  When  Jesus  understood 
it,  he  said,  Why  trouble  ye  the  woman?  Verily  I  say  unto 
you,  Wheresoever  this  gospel  shall  be  preached  in  the  whole 
world,  there  shall  also  this,  that  this  woman  hath  done,  be  told 
as  a  memorial  of  her?  Oh,  this  is  the  way  to  get  at  the  lost 
sheep  I  Instead  of  being  ashamed  of  these  trophies  of  grace, 
tell  it  to  the  world ;  yes,  tell  the  vilest,  though  their  sins  be  as 
scarlet,  or  red  like  crimson,  they  shall  be  as  snow  and  as  wool. 
Yes,  tell  them  all 

'  There  is  a  fountain  filled  with  blood 

Drawn  from  Immanuel's  veins, 
And  sinners  plunged  beneath  that  flood 
Lose  all  their  guilty  stains. 

'  The  dying  thief  rejoiced  to  see 

That  fountain  in  his  day; 

And  Mary  Magdalene  and  me 

Do  wash  our  sins  away.' 

Excuse  the  paraphrase  on  the  last  two  lines,  it  is  about  as  I 
feel. 

I  now  hasten  to  consider  briefly  the  fourth  section,  viz, 
The  joy  when  the  lost  sheep  is  found.  My  first  division  here 
shall  be  the  joy  of  the  lost  sheep.  See  how  the  stray  sheep 


SERMON  ON  THE  LOST  SHEEP.  307 

manifests  it  joy  when  coming  back  to  the  flock.  It  almost  for- 
gets to  feed;  but  goes  from  one  sheep  to  the  other  with  its 
quick,  short  bleat  of  gladness  and  affection,  rubbing  its  nose 
against  one,  and  then  another,  almost  like  the  kisses  between 
the  mother  and  child,  when  one  has  been  restored  to  the  bosom 
of  the  other.  Who  can  tell  the  first  glowings  of  joy,  when  the 
heart  first  goes  out  in  sweetly  breathing,  '  Our  Father  who  art 
in  heaven.'  Oh,  it  is  a  joy  unspeakable  and  full  of  glory.  The 
convert  calls  upon  his  soul,  and  all  within  him,  to  praise  the 
name  of  the  Lord,  and  he  would  wake  everything  into  songs 
of  praise.  They  felt  just  so  thousands  of  years  ago.  Hear  one 
of  the  ancients:  '  Praise  ye  the  Lord  from  the  heavens;  praise 
him  in  the  heights ;  praise  ye  him,  all  his  angels;  praise  him 
sun  and  moon;  praise  him,  all  ye  stars  of  light;  praise  him,  ye 
heaven  of  heavens,  and  ye  waters  that  be  above  the  heavens. 
Praise  the  Lord  from  the  earth,  ye  dragons  and  all  deeps :  fire 
and  hail,  snow  and  vapors,  stormy  wind  fulfilling  his  word : 
mountains  and  all  hills ;  fruitful  trees,  and  all  cedars  :  beasts 
and  all  cattle ;  creeping  things  and  flying  fowl :  kings  of  the 
earth  and  all  people;  princes  and  all  judges  of  the  earth:  both 
young  men  and  maidens ;  old  men  and  children :  let  them 
praise  the  name  of  the  Lord  ;  for  his  name  alone  is  excellent ; 
his  glory  is  above  the  earth  and  heaven.'  Oh,  if  the  heart's 
praise  could  be  embodied  in  a  single  sound,  no  peace  jubilee 
with  thousands  of  voices,  its  string  and  wind  instruments,  its 
anvil  choruses,  its  thundering  cannon,  could  wake  creation 
with  such  mighty  thundering  anthems  of  glory  as  would  peal 
on  the  ears  of  the  slumbering  world. 

A  second  division  is  the  joy  among  good  men.  The  emo- 
tions felt  in  Christian  hearts  are  often  unspeakable  over  the  lost 
that  are  found.  It  was  meet,  said  the  father,  that  the  best  robe 
be  put  upon  him,  that  the  fatted  calf  be  killed,  'for  this  my  son 
that  was  lost  is  found.'  I  was  once  in  a  meeting  where  a  young 
man  got  converted,  whose  father  had  felt  much  anxiety  for  him; 
and  when  he  heard  his  son  tell  what  God  had  done  for  him,  the 


808  SERMON  ON  THE  LOST  SEEEP. 

old  white-headed  man  was  wild  with  joy,  and  left  the  house 
without  hat  or  overcoat,  in  a  wintry  night,  and  with  his  bald 
head  exposed  and  the  few  silver  locks  streaming  in  the  wind 
and  snow,  run  for  his  home  to.  tell  the  glad  news  to  his  aged 
wife.  He  missed  neither  hat  nor  coat  until,  running  after  him 
only  as  a  strong  young  man,  full  of  vigor,  can  run,  I  overtook 
him  with  both. 

One  more  division  of  joy  under  my  fourth  section,  and  this 
shall  conclude  the  main  drill  in  the  action  to  recover  the  lost 
sheep,  viz. : 

Heaven  is  filled  with  joy  when  the  vilest  and  the  meanest  of 
all  the  lost  sheep  is  found.  How  many  Bible  figures  illustrate 
this  fact.  Time  will  only  permit  one  strong  statement  to  sup- 
port this  division.  As  there  is  joy  over  the  lost  sheep  that  is 
found,  Jesus  says,  '  I  say  unto  you,  that  likewise  joy  shall  be  in 
heaven  over  one  sinner  that  repenteth,  more  than  over  ninety 
and  nine  just  persons,  which  need  no  repentance.'  'I  say  unto 
you,  there  is  joy  in  the  presence  of  the  angels  of  God,  over 
one  sinner  that  repenteth.'  In  contemplating  what  the  Captain 
of  our  salvation  should  work  out,  how  he  should  save  the  lost 
sheep,  the  heavens  rung  with  songs  of  joy.  When  the  shep- 
herds watched  their  flocks  by  night,  two  thousand  years  ago 
on  the  plains  of  Bethlehem,  '  The  angel  of  the  Lord  came  upon 
them,  and  the  glory  of  the  Lord  shone  round  about  them. 
And  the  angel  said  unto  them,  Fear  not,  for  behold  I  bring  you 
good  tidings  of  great  joy,  which  shall  be  unto  all  people.  For 
unto  you  is  born  this  day,  in  the  city  of  D.ivid,  a  Saviour 
which  is  Christ  the  Lord.  And  suddenly  there  was  with  the 
angel  a  multitude  of  the  heavenly  host  praising  God  and  say- 
ing, Glory  to  God  in  the  highest,  and  on  earth  peace,  and  good- 
wJll  toward  man.' 

Oh  yes,  over  the  new  creation  the  morning  stars  sang 
together,  and  all  the  sons  of  God  shouted  for  joy;  and  you  and 
I  may  touch  wires  that  shall  send  thrills  of  joy  throughout  all 
the  heavenly  world.  To  the  work,  then,  and  let  the  people 


SERMON  ON   THE  LOST  SHEEP.  309 

know,  that  he  that  converteth  one  sinner  from  the  error  of  his 
way,  shall  save  a  soul  from  death,  and  hide  a  multitude  of  sins. 
It  will  hardly  be  necessary  for  me  to  bring  up  many  reserves  to 
the  support  of  my  sections  and  divisions  in  my  soldier  ser- 
mon, but  it  is  customary,  I  believe,  for  theologians  to  put  in  an 
inference  or  two  in  view  of  the  whole  subject,  and  I  will  bring 
up  a  reserve  thought  or  two,  in  support  of  what  has  been  said. 
1st.  *  How  much  better  is  a  man  than  a  sheep ! '  and  yet  a 
shepherd  is  justified  in  leaving  the  ninety  and  nine  and  going 
after  the  one  that  has  wandered,  and  when  he  has  found  it, 
feels  justified  not  only  to  be  joyful  himself,  but  in  calling  on 
his  neighbors  to  join  him.  Oh  the  value  of  a  human  soul!  Oh 
how  grand  and  glorious  the  privilege  of  binding  up  one  broken 
heart,  of  finding  one  bruised  and  wounded  sheep,  and  present- 
ing it  saved  to  the  great  Shepherd.  Oh  how  careful  that  we 
should  not  by  our  coldness,  by  uncharitableness,  drive  one  of 
these  lambs  astray.  How  many  are  wandering  to-day,  who 
would  have  been  the  happiest  lambs  in  the  fold  had  they  been 
dealt  kindly  with,  and  encouraged  as  they  should  have  been. 
How  many  old  Hebrews  must  ever  accuse  themselves  for  the 
sufferings  of  many  who  have  been  discouraged  and  gone  away 
from  the  fold.  To  save  yourselves  from  remorse,  go  after  them 
Take  one  example :  In  all  the  bloom  of  perfect  womanhood, 
ruined  by  a  villain ;  and  when  her  father  saw  her  shame,  his 
heart  grew  stone.  He  drove  her  forth  to  want  and  wintiy 
winds,  and  with  a  horrid  curse  forbidding  her  return. 

'  Upon  a  hoary  cliff  that  watched  the  sea 
Her  babe  was  found — dead ;  and  on  its  little  cheek 
The  tear  that  nature  bade  it  weep  had  turned 
An  ice-drop,  sparkling  in  the  morning  sun, 
And  to  the  turf  its  little  helpless  hands  were  frozen, 
For  she,  the  woful  mother  had  gone  mad, 
And  laid  it  down,  regardless  of  its  fate. 
She  never  spoke  of  her  deceiver,  father,  mother,  home, 
With  woe  too  wide  to  see  beyond,  she  died. 


310  SERMON  ON   TEE  LOST  SIIEEP. 

Not  unatoned  for  by  imputed  blood,  nor  by  the 
Spirit,  that  mysterious  works.     Aloud  her  father 
Cursed  that  day,  his  guilty  pride,  which  would  not  own 
A  daughter,  whom  the  God  of  heaven  and  earth 
Was  not  ashamed  to  call  his  own.' 

A  second  reserve.  In  this  way  only  can  you  show  that  you 
are  real  Christians  and  save  your  own  souls.  'By  their  fruit  ye 
shall  know  them.  By  this  shall  all  men  know  that  ye  are  ray 
disciples  if  ye  have  love  one  for  another.'  'Simon,  son  of  Jonas, 
lovest  thou  me?  Yea,  Lord,  thou  knowest  all  things,  thou 
knowest  that  I  love  thee.  Feed  my  sheep.''  I  don't  know  how 
a  man  can  expect  to  be  saved,  who  does  not  enter  this  work. 
Finally,  I  don't  believe  a  man  has  ever  known  the  love  of  God, 
whose  heart  does  not  go  out  after  the  lost,  and  feel  somewhat 
as  the  Saviour  did,  when  speaking  of  his  work  he  said,  '  How 
am  I  straightened  until  it  be  accomplished.  Beware,  oh  be- 
ware scribes,  Pharisees,  hypocrites,  hirelings,  whose  own  the 
sheep  are  not,  and  who  seeth  the  wolf  coming,  and  leaveth  the 
sheep  and  fleeth,  and  the  wolf  catcheth  them,  and  scattereth 
the  sheep,  for  the  day  of  your  reckoning  is  at  hand.'  'If  the 
watchman  see  the  sword  come  and  blow  not  the  trumpet  and 
the  people  be  not  warned,  if  the  sword  come  and  take  away 
any  person  from  among  the  people,  his  blood  will  I  require  at 
the  watchman's  hand.'  Comrades,  go  after  the  lost  sheep. 
Comrades,  don't  offend  the  little  ones,  no  matter  how  weak, 
the  more  need  of  help ;  no  matter  how  vile  they  have  been,  the 
more  you  should  encourage  and  lead  them  by  the  hand.  Woe 
unto  that  man  who  puts  a  straw  in  the  way  of  the  dear  lamb, 
for  it  is  written, '  Whoso  shall  offend  one  of  these  little  ones 
which  believe  in  me,  it  were  better  for  him  that  a  millstone 
were  hanged  about  his  neck,  and  that  he  were  drowned  in  the 
depths  of  the  sea.'  AMEN. 

To  this  work  my  soul  turns,  and  that  I  may  be  permitted  to 
enter  this  field  untrammeled  is  my  prayer,  that  the  remnant  of 


CONCLUSION.  311 

my  days  may  be  employed  in  bringing  from  the  highways  and 
hedges  those  that  are  lost,  that  God's  house  may  be  filled. 
Every  one  that  buys  a  book  of  mine  helps  to  strike  off  my 
fetters,  and  though  crippled  in  body,  if  I  can  succeed  in  freeing 
myself  from  these  bonds  of  poverty,  so  to  make  proclamation 
of  God's  love  to  man  without  being  muzzled,  and  without 
charge  when  the  people  are  poor,  the  height  of  my  ambition 
will  be  reached. 

Dear  reader,  we  have  gone  over  the  crooked  and  strange 
journey  of  life  together,  and  with  many  thanks  to  you  for  your 
patience  in  reading  these  pages,  trusting  you  will  be  charitable 
toward  all  my  errors,  there  remains  for  me  only  to  ask  you  to 
prepare  to  meet  the  Judge  of  all,  if  you  have  not  already  done 
so,  and  to  say  to  you,  what  has  been  paining  me  to  think  of 
saying,  lest  some  word  I  have  forgotten  to  say  ought  to  be  said 
to  save  some  soul  from  death,  that  word  so  often  baptized  in 
tears  and  often  repeated  from  trembling,  loving  lips,  good-by. 


ISAAC  W.  AMBLER. 


"TRUTH   STRANGER   THAN  FICTION." 


MEMOIRS 

OF 

SERGEANT  I.  W.  AMBLER. 


THE    PRESS    AND    PEOPLE'S    BOOK. 


A  wonderful  narrative  of  personal  history.  Not  within 
the  entire  range  of  English  or  American  literature,  can 
there  be  found,  without  pay,  pension  or  reward,  such  a 
brilliant  example  of  heroic  devotion. 

His  services  in  behalf  of  the  Union,  Generals  and 
Governors  of  States  have  been  pleased  to  term  hercu- 
lean, heroic,  patriotic  and  loyal.  His  trials,  sufferings, 
wounds,  sacrifices  and  privations,  entitle  him  to  sub- 
stantial recognition. 

All  of  which  is  proved  "by  the  unqualified  testimony  of 
American  heroes  and  statesmen,  who  say  :  "It  is  the  man 
who  deserves,  and  not  only  the  man  who  achieves  success, 
that  is  honored  by  us." 

WM.  F.  SMITH,  late  Maj.  Gen.  U.  S.  Vols. 
GEORGE  B.  MCCLELLAN,  late  Maj.  Gen.  U.  S.  A. 
A.  E.  BURNSIDE,  late  Maj.  Gen.  U.  S.  A. 
J.  HOOKER,  late  Maj.  Gen.  U.  S.  A. 


14  MEMOIRS  OF  SERGEANT  I.    W.  AMBLER. 

C.  C.  MEADE,  late  Maj.  Gen.  U.  S.  A. 
JOSHUA  L.  CHAMBERLAIN,  late  Maj.  Gen.  U.  S.  Vols. 
CHAS.  DEVENS,  JR.,  late  Brev.  Maj.  Gen.  U.  S.  Vols. 
WM.  COGSWELL,  late  Brig.  Gen.  U.  S.  A. 
G.  F.  SHEPLEY,  late  U.  S.  Judge,  late  Brig.  Gen.  U.S.A. 
FRANCIS  FESSENDEN,  late  Brig.  Gen.  U.  S.  Vols. 
JAMES  FESSENDEN,  late  Brig.  Gen.  U.  S.  Vols. 
NEAL  Dow,  late  Brig.  Gen.  U.  S.  Vols. 
WM.  DWIGHT,  late  Col.  70th  Regt.  N.  Y.   Vols.  and 
Brig.  Gen.  U.  S.  Vols. 

T.  W.  PORTER,  late  Col.  14th  Maine  Regt.U.  S.  Vols. 

ISAAC  FRAZIER,  late  Capt.  6th  Me.  Regt.  U.  S.  Vols. 

J.  E.  SMITH,  late  Capt.  38th  Regt.  Mass.  Vols. 

JOHN  W.  TRAFTON,  late  Capt.  27th  Regt.  Mass.  Vols. 

MILTON  FRAZIER,  late  Lieut.  6th  Me.  Vols. 

WM.  CLAFLIN,  Ex-Gov.  of  Mass. 

ICHABOD  GOODWIN,  Ex-Gov.  of  N.  H. 

ONSLOW  STEARNS,  Ex-Gov.  of  N.  H. 

ISRAEL  WASHBURN,  JR.,  Ex-Gov.  of  Maine. 

SETH  PADELFORD,  Ex-Gov.  of  R.  I. 

JOHN  D.  LONG,  Gov.  of  Mass. 

THOMAS  TALBOT,  Ex-Gov.  of  Mass. 

ALEX.  H.  RICE,  Ex-Gov.  of  Mass. 

GEO.  S.  BOUTWELL,  Ex-Gov.  of  Mass. 

ALEX.  H.  BULLOCK,  Ex-Gov.  of  Mass. 

WM.  GASTON,  Ex-Gov.  of  Mass. 

J.  L.  CHAMBERLAIN,  Ex-Gov.  of  Maine. 

FREDERICK  O.  PRINCE,  Ex-Mayor  of  Boston. 

HENRY  L.  PIERCE,  Ex-Mayor  of  Boston. 

CHAS.  A.  SHAW,  Ex-Mayor  of  Biddeford,  Me. 

HON.  D.  E.  SOMES,  late  M.  Congress. 

HON.  J.  G.  BLAINE,  Ex-Sec.  U.  S. 

HON.  J.  G.  ABBOTT,  Judge,  Boston,  Mass. 

HON.  C.  LEVI  WOODBURY,  Judge,  Boston,  Mass. 


MEMOIRS   OF  SERGEANT  I.    W.   AMBLER.  15 

HON.  EDW.  AVERY,  Chairman  Central  Committee. 
FKED'K  A.  FOSTER,  Merchant,  of  Boston,  Mass. 
ROB'T  G.  FITCH,  Editor  Boston  Post. 

D.  A.  GODDARD,  late  Editor  Boston  Advertiser. 

E.  B.  HASKELL,  Editor  Boston  Herald. 
B.  P.  PALMER,  Editor  Boston  Globe. 
HEXRY  M.  DKXTER,  Editor  Congregationalist. 
LEVERETT  SALTONSTALL. 

Z.  THOMPSON,  Chaplain  6th  Me.  Regt.  1861  and  1862. 
ELBRIDGE  G.  STEVENS,  M.  D. 

J.  E.  L.   KIMBALL,  M.  D.,   late   Surgeon  27th  Regt. 
M.  Yols. 

"Wai.  J.  DALE,  Surgeon  Gen.  Commonwealth  of  Mass. 


A  DEBT  OF  HONOR. 


EVERYBODY  has  heard  of  Sergeant  Ambler.  Many  of 
our  readers  know  him  personally.  He  was  in  his  youth 
an  English  soldier  under  Wellington.  Coming  to  this 
country  many  years  ago,  he  has  passed  through  a  varied 
experience,  which  he  has  written  in  a  book  and  related 
from  many  platforms.  When  Sumter  was  fired  upon  he 
entered  into  the  Union  service  heart  and  soul.  Not  over- 
prudent  in  regard  to  his  own  interests,  as  his  story  shows, 
he  was  full  of  energy,  courage  and  enthusiasm,  — honest, 
loyal  and  faithful  always. 

His  first  service  was  to  form  the  members  of  the  Young 
Men's  Christian  Association,  of  Boston,  into  a  drill  club, 
and  give  them  their  first  lesson  in  war.  He  had  been  a 
drill-master  in  the  English  army,  and  when  our  need  came 
he  volunteered  his  service  where  it  would  do  the  most 
good.  From  that  moment  he  was  in  great  demand,  drill- 
ing officers  and  squads  of  men  in  the  use  of  the  musket, 
bayonet  and  broadsword,  wherever  he  could  get  a  room 

*j  O 

for  practice.  His  overflowing  enthusiasm  and  rough  elo- 
quence were  also  of  great  use  in  recruiting  the  early  regi- 
ments, to  some  of  whose  officers  and  men  he  gave  their 
first  real  instruction,  often  doing  double  and  treble  duty 
by  first  coaching  the  sergeants,  who  repeated  the  lesson 
to  their  companies.  Many  of  our  citizens  are  familiar 
with  all  this.  The  papers  of  the  time  also  bear  ample 
testimony  to  it.  There  is  no  doubt  of  the  facts. 


A  DEBT  OF  HONOR.  17 

In  July,  1861,  he  went  to  the  front  with  the  6th  Maine 
regiment,  which  he  had  been  drilling  for  a  few  weeks  at 
Camp  Preble,  the  officers  assuring  him  that  he  would 
receive  the  same  pay  and  fare  from  the  government  which 
they  received.  Unfortunately  for  him,  he  was  not  regu- 
larly mustered  into  the  service,  but  he  was  the  same 
zealous,  self-forgetful  soldier  as  if  he  had  been.  When 
the  regiment  marched  through  Baltimore,  with  ba}ronets 
fixed  and  muskets  loaded,  expecting  attack,  Sergeant 
Ambler  took  charge  of  the  colors,  and  bore  them  safely 
through.  He  remained  with  the  regiment  during  that 
dreadful  summer,  performing  all  soldierly  duties,  instruct- 
ing officers  in  the  sword,  and  men  in  the  bayonet  exercise, 
going  out  on  picket  duty,  and  wherever  a  strong  hand 
and  courageous  heart  were  wanted.  He  came  home  in 
September,  prostrated  by  sunstroke,  the  War  Department 
passing  him  as  a  soldier  on  government  account. 

During  that  and  the  following  year  he  gave  his  time 
and  energy  to  recruiting  and  drilling  for  several  Maine 
regiments,  and  teaching  officers  and  soldiers  from  other 
States  in  New  England.  From  the  summer  of  1863  to 
the  close  of  the  war  he  spent  much  time  at  Long  Island 
and  Gallop's  Island  drilling  officers  and  men  of  regiments 
stationed  there  before  going  to  the  front.  In  these  labors 
he  sustained  severe  physical  injuries  which  disabled  him 
from  ordinary  work,  and  from  which  he  has  never  fully 
recovered.  The  facts  are  attested  by  many  witnesses 
whose  letters  are  lying  before  us.  During  all  this  time 
his  services  were  accepted  and  made  use  of  by  the  Gov- 
ernment, through  its  responsible  officers  ;  and  they  were 
recognized  in  every  way  that  such  services  can  be  recog- 
nized, —  except  one  :  He  was  never  paid  for  them. 

Eight  or  nine  years  ago,  being  brought  by  ill  health 
into  great  need,  his  friends  urged  him  to  bring  his  claim 


18  A  DEBT  OF  HONOR. 

to  the  attention  of  Congress;  and,  as  justice  never  can  be 
outlawed,  he  thought  best  to  undertake  it.  His  petition 
was  duly  presented  in  person,  modestly  setting  forth  the 
nature  of  his  services,  the  fact  that  he  had  received  no 
compensation  therefor,  either  from  municipal,  state  or 
national  authority,  and  asking  to  be  mustered  into  the 
service  for  the  period  named,  with  the  rank  of  first  er- 
geant,  with  pay  and  pension  belonging  to  that  grade,  and 
such  other  relief  as  might  be  just  and  proper.  To  the 
truth  of  his  story,  and  the  equity  of  his  claims,  everybody 
who  knew  Sergeant  Ambler  and  his  history  was  willing 
to  testify.  The  late  Hon.  John  Neal,  ex-mayor  of  Port- 
land, made  a  statement  of  his  useful  services  to  the  sev- 
eral regiments  mentioned  in  his  papers, — in  the  course  of 
which  service  he  had  suffered  greatly,  and  been  put  to 
heavy  charges.  Mr.  Neal  earnestly  urged  the  claim  to 
the  favorable  consideration  of  the  President,  the  Secre- 
tary of  War  and  of  Congress.  Generals  Chamberlain, 
Fessenden  and  Shepley,  and  Governors  Washburn  of 
Maine,  Padelford  and  Claflin  concurred  in  the  statement 
and  joined  in  the  recommendation.  Many  other  distin- 
guished officers  and  civilians  who  knew  the  Sergeant  per- 
sonally, or  had  investigated  his  case,  also  joined  in  it. 
We  copy  from  the  original  papers  the  cordial  indorse- 
ments of  Generals  McClellan,  Dcvens,  Hooker,  Burnside, 
Meade  and  Cogswell,  Ex-Governors  Goodwin  and  Stearns 
of  New  Hampshire,  and  eighteen  or  twenty  leading  citi- 
zens of  Biddeford,  where,  at  the  beginning  of  the  war, 
Mr.  Ambler  was  in  service  as  city  missionaiy.  With 
these  papers  he  went  to  Washington  ,  but,  unfortunately, 
he  had  no  influential  friends  there,  and  no  money  to  pay 
for  assistance,  and  he  could  not  get  a  hearing.  His  papers 
having  been  buried  in  the  rooms  of  the  Military  Com- 
mittee for  several  mouths,  and,  being  told  that  nothing 


A  DEBT  OF  HONOR.  19 

would  be  done  about  them,  he  at  last  recovered  them, 
and,  heart-sick,  impoverished,  and  in  despair,  he  started 
for  home,  on  a  pass  issued  to  him  as  a  volunteer  soldier 
disabled  by  injuries. 

The  Franklin-street  fire  a  month  ago  again  swept  away 
the  last  visible  reliance  of  the  old  soldier;  and,  as  it  is 
disgraceful  that  he  should  be  compelled  to  live  by  favor 
while  the  country  is  in  debt  to  him,  some  of  those  who 
kviow  the  facts  propose  to  ask  the  attention  of  Congress 
to  them  again,  in  the  hope  that  justice  may  be  done,  even 
at  the  eleventh  hour.  —  Boston  Daily  Advertiser. 


WAITING  FOR  JUSTICE. 


REPUBLICS  may  not  be  ungrateful,  but  we  fear  they  are 
sometimes  forgetful  or  neglectful.  Valuable  services  and 
timely  aid  do  not  seem  so  deserving  of  reward  after  the 
end  for  which  they  were  sought  has  been  attained  as 
before.  Since  the  close  of  our  civil  war  many  illustrations 
of  this  truth  have  come  into  notice,  but  no  one  has  more 
points  of  interest  than  the  case  of  Sergeant  I.  W.  Ambler 
of  our  own  city.  We  do  not  need  to  go  over  the  points 
of  his  eventful  life.  They  have  been  too  often  rehearsed 
to  need  detailed  repetition.  When  he  gallantly  offered 
his  services  to  his  adopted  country  there  were  enough 
to  proclaim  his  praises,  and  dwell  with  admiration  upon 
his  courage,  his  soldierly  qualities,  his  military  experience 
and  the  romantic  and  frequently  dangerous  adventures  of 
which  his  life  has  been  so  largely  made  up.  He  justified 
all  that  was  said  of  him  and  claimed  for  him.  His  skill 
in  making  soldiers  out  of  civilians  was  marvellous,  and 
the  soldierly  training  he  had  himself  received  in  the 
English  army  was  disseminated  among  officers  and  men 
with  the  best  results.  He  was  at  the  head  of  an  unor- 
ganized department  of  normal  military  instruction.  He 
drilled  the  officers,  and  imparted  his  thoroughness  and 
method  to  them,  and  they  in  turn  drilled  the  men.  He 
taught  sabre  and  bayonet  practice  and  sword  exercise  in 
both  infantry  and  cavalry,  and  it  is  safe  to  say  that  he 
was  the  hardest  worked  man  in  camp.  When  the  Sixth 


WAITING  FOR  JUSTICE.  21 

Maine  Regiment  went  to  the  front  in  July,  1801,  he  joined 
its  fortunes  and  went  to  the  seat  of  war. 

He  was  assured  by  the  officers,  who  certainly  could  ill 
have  spared  him,  that  he  would  receive  the  same  pay  and 
fare  as  themselves.  But  with  native  gallantry  and  sol- 
dierly enthusiasm  he  did  not  wait  to  have  set  down  in 
black  and  white  what  he  was  to  receive  for  his  services 
and  his  sacrifices.  He  preferred  to  leave  that  to  the 
honor  of  the  Government,  and  was  never  regularly  mus- 
tered in.  He  remained  at  the  front  performing  whatever 
soldierly  duty  came  in  his  way,  until  prostrated  by  sun- 
stroke some  months  after,  when  the  War  Department 
passed  him  home  as  a  soldier  on  Government  account. 
Subsequently  he  was  in  the  service  of  the  Government  till 
the  close  of  the  war,  and  leading  officers  of  the  army, 
including  McClellan,  Devens,  Hooker,  Burnside,  Meade. 
and  many  others,  as  well  as  distinguished  civilians  in  the 
North,  testified  to  the  important  and  almost  invaluable 
services  that  he  had  rendered.  But  he  never  technically 
belonged  to  the  army,  and  was  never  paid  for  what  he 
did.  Worn-out,  spent  and  crippled  in  the  service  of  this 
country,  he  asked  it  to  do  him  justice ;  to  pay  him  what 
he  could  have  forced  it  to  pay  had  he  been  more  calculat- 
ing in  looking  out  for  himself,  and  less  thoughtful  for  the 
interests  of  the  country  to  which  he  had  given  his  alle- 
giance. The  American  Congress  saw  his  powerlessness, 
and  virtually  snapped  its  fingers  at  his  petition.  This 
was  nine  or  ten  years  ago.  He  went  manfully  to  work 
to  help  himself,  and  those  dependent  upon  him,  but  ad- 
verse fortune  followed  him,  and  his  losses  in  the  Franklin 
Street  fire  added  more  to  his  heavy  burden.  We  believe 
his  case  will  be  brought  before  the  present  Congress. 
When  this  body  was  Republican  it  refused  this  brave  and 
devoted  soldier  the  barest  justice.  Let  a  Democratic 


22  WAITING  FOR  JUSTICE. 

majority  show  itself  capable  of  rising  above  a  paltry  tech- 
nicality, and  redeem  the  country  from  the  reproach  of 
deserting  a  man  who  contributed  his  best  strength  and 
skill  to  preserve  it.  —  Boston  Post. 


BOSTON,  June  18th,  1878. 
Hon.  BENJ.  F.  BUTLER  : 

My  Dear  Sir,  — I  have  spent  much  time  this  day  in  a 
careful  examination  of  documents  and  certificates  in  the 
possession  of  Sergeant  Isaac  W.  Ambler.  You,  better 
than  any  other  person  I  know,  can  determine  whether 
such  services  as  Sergeant  Ambler  rendered  in  the  war  of 
the  rebellion,  and  under  such  peculiar  circumstances,  can 
be  adequately,  or  even  at  all,  compensated  by  the  country 
under  any  existing  statute.  It  seems  to  me  that  his  case 
is  a  very  remarkable  one,  or  in  the  unselfish  spirit  in 
which  they  have  been  given. 

Your  time,  as  I  tell  Sergeant  Ambler,  is  so  valuable  as 
to  render  it  impossible  for  you  to  examine  carefully  the 
many  certificates  from  prominent  citizens  which  he  has 
shown  to  me.  I  suppose  that  only  by  a  special  Act  of 
Congress  can  he  be  remunerated,  and  he  comes  to  you  to 
ascertain  the  best  method  of  bringing  his  case  before  that 
body.  His  character  is  vouched  for  by  many  persons 
known  to  you,  and  by  a  very  highly  esteemed  friend  of 
mine,  who  has  long  and  intimately  known  him,  and  his 
claim  seems  to  me  to  rest  on  good  foundations. 

With  the  highest  personal  esteem  for  yourself, 
I  am,  your  obedient  servant, 

W.  B.  BROWN, 
Secretary  of  the  Boston  Water  Power  Company. 

[The  original  copy  of  this  letter  was  lost.    This  is  copied  from  the  impression  ol 
.the  original  in  Mr.  Brown's  letter-press.] 


PETITION  TO   COXGEE&S.  23 

BOSTON,  Mass.,  1880. 

To  the  Honorable   Senate  and  House  of  Representatives 
of  the   United  States. 

The  undersigned,  I.  W.  Ambler,  respectfully  represents 
that,  having  had  long  experience  as  a  soldier  and  Drill- 
Master,  he  devoted  himself  at  the  beginning  of  the  late 
War  to  the  instruction  of  officers  and  soldiers  for  the  ser- 
vice of  the  United  States. 

He  entered  upon  this  work  in  Boston,  Massachusetts, 
on  the  15th  of  April,  1861,  the  third  day  after  the  attack 
on  Fort  Sumter,  and  continued  so  engaged  in  Massa- 
chusetts, Maine,  and  at  the  front  in  Virginia,  until  the 
4th  of  April,  1865,  without  any  compensation  therefor, 
either  from  Municipal,  State  or  National  authorities  ;  and, 
moreover,  was  made  a  cripple  for  life  by  a  bayonet  wound 
received  while  in  discharge  of  his  duty. 

He  further  represents  that  he  was  recognized  as  a  sol- 
dier and  Drill-Officer  of  the  Union  Army  by  the  Secretary 
of  War,  and  other  officers  in  authority,  who  furnished 
him  transportation,  as  a  wounded  soldier  to  the  Soldier's 
Home  at  Augusta. 

In  consideration  of  these  facts,  proofs  of  which  are 
given  in  documents  accompanying  this,  and  of  his  ser- 
vices, shown  by  commendatory  letters  herewith,  the  un- 
dersigned, petitioner,  humbly  begs  your  Honorable  Bodies 
to  grant  him  such  pension  or  other  pecuniary  remunera- 
tion as  to  you  may  seem  just  and  equitable,  and  as  in 
duty  bound  will  ever  pray,  etc. 

I.  W.  AMBLER. 


24  TESTIMONIALS. 

PORTLAND,  MAINE,  March  15,  1871. 

This  may  certify  that  I  have  personally  known  Sergeant 
I.  W.  Ambler  ever  since  1859  ;  that  I  always  found  him 
trustworthy,  earnest  and  laborious,  a  capital  swordsman 
and  drill-master,  and  gifted  with  uncommon  eloquence. 

His  services  and  suffering  in  the  late  rebellion,  and  the 
injuries  he  has  sustained,  whereby  he  has  lost  many  years 
of  his  life,  would  entitle  him  to  great  consideration  if  they 
were  known  to  our  rulers. 

Nevertheless,  it  would  seem  that  he  has  claims,  which* 
if  not  legal  and  technical,  are  at  least  equitable,  and  ought 
not  to  be  overlooked  in  this  our  day  of  reckoning  and 
generous  acknowledgment  of  such  services  he  has  ren- 
dered our  country. 

Entertaining  these  views,  I  do  most  heartily  commend 
him  to  the  consideration  of  our  national  lawgivers,  and  to 
the  President  of  the  United  States  and  the  Secretary  of 
War.  All  of  which  is  respectfully  submitted. 

JOHN   NEAL. 

We,  the  undersigned,  concur  in  the  above  representa- 
tions, and  hereby  join  in  the  recommendation  : 

POLICE  DEPARTMENT  OF  THE  CITY  or  NEW  YORK, 
300  MULBERRY  STREET, 

To  the  Honorable  Senate  and  House  of  Representatives* 

I  hereby  certify  that  Sergeant  I.  W.  Ambler  served 
under  my  command,  with  the  Sixth  Regiment  Maine  Vol- 
unteers, and  that  I  find  my  own  signature  among  his 
original  papers. 

W.  F.  SMITH, 

Late  Major-General  V.  S.  Volunteers. 


TESTIMONIALS.  £5 

NEW  YORK,  CITY  HALL,  1871. 

I  am  satisfied  that  Sergeant  Ambler  is  fairly  entitled 
to  the  generous  consideration  of  the  authorities  for  valu- 
able services  rendered  during  the  War,  and  that  it  is  a 
case  wherein  technical  objections,  if  such  exist,  ought  not 
to  stand  in  the  way  of  ample  recompense  being  awarded 
him. 

GEO.  B.  McCLELLAN, 

Late  Major- General,  U.  S.  A. 

I  am  glad  to  concur  in  the  above  recommendations 
favorable  to  Sergeant  Ambler. 

A.  E.  BURNSIDE, 

Late  Major- General  U.  8.  A. 

.  i 

I  concur  in  the  above  recommendations. 

J.  HOOKER, 

Late  Major- General  U.  S.  A. 

I  concur  in  the  recommendations  of  Generals  McClel- 
lan,  Hooker,  Burnside  and  others. 

C.  C.  MEADE, 
Late  Major- General  U.  S.  A. 

NEW  YORK. 

I  have  examined  the  letters  and  papers  in  possession  of 
Sergeant  Ambler.  Captain  Bugbee,  whose  Company 
Sergeant  Ambler  instructed,  was  one  of  the  best  and  most 
faithful  officers  in  my  regiment,  and  fell  at  my  side  in  the 
battle  of  Williamsburg,  Va.,  at  the  opening  of  the  Pen  in 
sula  Campaign. 

I  cheerfully  concur  in  the  commendations  and  recom- 
mendations of  the  officers  under  whom  Sergeant  Ambler 


26  TESTIMONIALS. 

served,  and  trust  that  he  may  receive  such  pecuniary  com- 
pensation and  relief  as  his  services  are  entitled  to,  and 
his  wound  demands. 

Through  Captain  Bugbee  and  Lieutenant  Edleison  a 
great  many  men  were  furnished  to  my  regiment  by  Ser- 
geant Ambler  of  Boston,  and  I  have  no  reason  to  doubt 
that  his  statement  of  the  number  is  correct  (300). 

WILLIAM  DWIGHT,  JR. 
Late  Col.  70th  Regiment,  New  York  Vols. 
and  Brig. -Gen.  U.  8.  V. 

BOSTON,  MASS.,  1871. 

I  know  Sergeant  Ambler.  He  drilled  many  officers 
under  my  command.  I  concur  fully  in  the  recommenda- 
tions above. 

CHAS.  DEVENS,  JK., 
Late  Brev.  Maj.-Gen.  U.  S.  V. 

BOSTON,  MASS.,  1871. 

From  the  above  endorsements  I  feel  certain  that  Ser- 
geant Ambler  is  entitled  to  great  consideration,  and  if 
any  irregularity  exists  in  regard  to  his  muster  in,  it  would 
seem  to  be  the  duty  of  our  lawgivers  to  fully  reimburse 
him,  and  pay  for  his  services. 

WM.  COGSWELL, 
Late  Brigadier-  General  U.  S.   V. 

We,  the  undersigned,  cordially  concur  in  the  foregoing 
petition  : 

JOHN  D.  LONG,  Governor  of  Massachusetts. 
FREDERICK  O.  PRINCE,  Mayor  of  Boston,  Mass. 
J.  G.  ABBOTT,  Judge. 

THOMAS  TALBOT,  Ex-Governor  oi  Massachusetts. 
WILLIAM  GASTON,  Ex-Governor  of  Massachusetts. 


TESTIMONIALS.  27 

CHAS.  LEVI  WOODBURY,  Judge. 

HENRY  L.  PIERCE,  Ex-Mayor  and  Congressman. 

FREDERICK  A.  FOSTER,  Merchant. 

EDWARD  AVERY,  Chairman  Central  Committee. 

ALEXANDER  H.  RICE,  Ex-Governor  of  Massachusetts. 

ROBERT  G.  FITCH,  Managing  Editor  of  the  Post. 

GEO.  S.  BOUTWELL,  Ex-Governor  of  Massachusetts. 

DELANO  A.  GODDARD,  Editor  of  the  Advertiser. 

E.  B.  HASKELL,  Editor  of  the  Boston  Herald. 

B.  P.  PALMER,  Editor  of  the  Boston  Globe. 

HENRY  M.  DEXTER,  Editor  of  the  Congregationalist. 

LEVERETT  SALTONSTALL. 

ALEXANDER  H.  BULLOCK,  Ex-Gov.  of  Massachusetts. 

STEPHEN  N.  STOCKWELL,  Editor  of  Boston  Journal. 

BRUNSWICK,  MAINE,  Nov.  11,  1874. 
I  am  well  acquainted  with  Sergeant  Ambler,  and  know 
him  to  be  a  very  deserving  man.     He  rendered  essential 
aid  to  our  army  during  the  war  as  an  instructor,  and  by 
his  formal  participation  in  some  of  the  battles. 

JOSHUA   L.  CHAMBERLAIN, 

Late  Major-General  U.  S.  Vols. 

STATE  MAINE,  1871. 

I  know  Sergeant  Ambler  as  an  instructor  of  troops  and 
a  teacher  of  the  sword,  and  am  happy  to  concur  in  the 
above  recommendations. 

FRANCIS  FESSENDEN, 
Late  Brigadier- General  U.  S.  Army. 
I  know  Sergeant  Ambler  well,  and  have  done  so  for 
many  years.     Without  pay  he  rendered  me  important  aid 
in  drilling  company  officers,   in    my  command,  as  they 
came  into  camp  from  their  various  localities. 

NEAL  DOW, 
Late  Brigadier- General  U.  S.  Vols. 


28  TESTIMONIALS. 

I  concur  in  the  above  recommendation. 

JAMES  D.  FESSENDEX, 

Late  Brigadier- General  U.  S.  Vols. 

Having  long  and  favorably  known  Sergeant  Ambler,  \ve 
fully  concur  in  the  foregoing  commendations  : 

ICHABOD  GOODWIN,  Ex-Governor  of  New  Hampshire 
JOSHUA  L.  CHAMBERLAIN,  Ex-Governor  of  Maine. 
ISRAEL  WASHBURN,  Jr.,  Ex-Governor  of  Maine. 
SETH  PADELFORD,  Ex-Governor  of  Rhode  Island. 
WILLIAM  CLAFLIN,  Ex-Governor  of  Massachusetts. 
ONSLOW  STEARNS,  Ex-Governor  of  New  Hampshire, 
G.  F.  SHEPLEY,  U.  S.  Judge,  late  Brigadier-General 
United  States  Volunteers. 

WASHINGTON,  D.  C.,  Jan.  22,  1872. 
I  have  known  Sergeant  Ambler  personally  and  by  repu- 
tation for  many  years,  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  he  is 
eminently  deserving  the  aid  and  relief  he  seeks.  His 
services  and  his  sufferings  alike  entitle  him  to  this  recog- 
nition. 

J.  G.  ELAINE, 
Speaker  of  the  House  of  Representatives, 

STATE  MAINE,  1871. 

It  is  with  much  pleasure,  as  well  as  with  a  deep  sense  of 
duty,  that  I  write  this  commendation  of  Sergeant  I.  W. 
Ambler,  drill-master,  and  fully  concur  with  the  accom- 
panying recommendations.  I  personally  and  intimately 
knew  Sergeant  Ambler  in  the  Army  of  the  Potomac,  in 
the  autumn  of  1861 ;  how  hard  and  successfully  he  labored 
to  drill  the  raw  officers  in  sword,  and  soldiers  in  musket 
and  skirmish  exercises,  particularly  in  my  regiment,  the 
Sixth  Maine ;  and  I  remember  instances  in  which  his 
courageous  example  and  soldierly  bearing  was  of  great 


TESTIMONIALS.  29 

service  to  our  troops  which  had  not  been  under  fire,  as, 
for  instance,  the  affair  of  Lewinsville,  Virginia,  under 
General  Smith,  Sergeant  Ambler  was  the  man  selected  to 
bear  the  colors  of  the  Sixth  Maine  through  Baltimore, 
when  the  regiment  was  on  its  way  to  Washington,  and 
when  an  attack  by  the  mob  was  expected  ;  he  received 
great  injury  by  poisoned  food  in  Havre-de-Grace,  etc., 
etc. 

I  remember,  also,  that  for  his  hard  and  valuable  ser- 
vices in  1861  he  received  no  compensation;  and  that  he 
was  subsequently  broken  and  crippled  in  body  for  life  in 
his  efforts  to  aid  the  Union  cause,  as  his  many  scars  to-day 
will  testify,  etc.  ;  I  will  only  say  more,  that  as  I  know 
what  I  above  stated  is  true,  I  most  earnestly  hope  a  just 
and  grateful  country  wrill  acknowledge  and  reward  his 
services. 

Z.  THOMPSON, 

Chaplain  Sixth  Maine  Regiment,  1861-62. 

LYNN,  MASS,  July  7,  1877. 

The  highest  praise  is  due  Sergeant  I.  W.  Ambler,  who 
was  so  well  known  by  the  officers  and  soldiers  of  the 
Sixth  Maine  Regiment. 

His  services  as  drill  officer  were  unquestionably  of 
great  importance  to  the  regiment,  as  well  as  the  colonel, 
who  was  one  of  the  best  regimental  commanders  in  the 
army. 

The  Sergeant  was  ever  at  his  post,  ready  to  impart  what 
knowledge  he  had  of  military  discipline,  and  proved  him- 
self to  be  a  true  and  devoted  soldier  to  the  Union  cause, 
repeatedly  exposing  himself  to  the  dangers  of  the  battle- 
field, both  before  and  after  receiving  injuries  from  which 
he  can  never  recover,  and  it  seems  a  disgrace  to  the 
country  and  her  soldiers  to  allow  a  person  whom  I  know, 


30  TESTIMONIALS. 

and  who  has  abundant  proofs  that  he  performed  the 
duties  of  a  soldier  in  all  its  forms,  exposing  himself  to 
the  hardships  and  dangers  of  the  battle-field,  receiving 
wounds  therein,  to  remain  unpaid  for  the  service  ren- 
dered, and  the  disabilities  he  received. 

Has  our  nation  got  so  low  that  it  can  aiford  to  stoop  to 
such  injustice  as  to  let  a  man  who  has  been  acknowledged 
by  the  War  Department,  as  well  as  some  of  the  com- 
manding generals,  as  sergeant  in  the  army,  suffer  for  the 
necessaries  of  life,  while  the  country  is  abundantly  able 
to  pay  for  the  same.  I  trust  that  justice  will  be  done  in 
the  matter  to  the  fullest  extent. 

I  write  these  things  from  personal  knowledge  at  the 
time  of  his  service,  and  supposed  that  he  had  been  fully 
paid  until  within  a  few  days,  not  having  seen  him  since 
the  close  of  the  war. 

ISAAC  FRAZIER, 
Late  Copt.  Co.  B,  6th  Me.  Vol.  Regt. 

I  can  fully  concur  in  the  above  statement  in  regard  to 

v 

Sergeant  Ambler,  and  hope  that  Congress  will,  at  an  early 
day,  consider  the  claim  which  the  country  honestly  owes 
him  in  my  opinion. 

Lieut.  MILTON  FRAZIER, 

6th  Maine  Vol.  Regt. 

LYNN,  MASS.,  July,  1877. 

It  gives  me  great  pleasure  to  recommend  Sergeant  I.  W. 
Ambler,  late  of  the  Sixth  Maine  Regiment  Volunteers,  as 
an  accomplished  drill-master  in  'the  sword  and  bayonet 
exercise,  having  taken  lessons  from  him  with  some  forty 
other  officers  during  the  late  war.  I  can  speak  from  per- 
sonal experience  of  his  soldierly  qualities  and  gentlemanly 
deportment. 


TESTIMONIALS.  31 

Sergeant  Ambler  is  certainly  deserving  of  every  consid- 
eration for  his  services  during  the  rebellion,  in  drilling 
both  officers  and  men,  and,  after  being  disabled,  while  in 
the  service  of  his  adopted  country,  and  in  the  line  of  duty, 
should  certainly  receive  consideration  from  the  govern- 
ment which  he  so  ably  helped  to  sustain.  The  instruction 
which  I  received  with  other  officers  from  Sergeant  Ambler, 
was  while  under  command  of  General  Charles  Devens,  Jr. 

J.  E.  SMITH, 

Late  Capt.  38th  Regt.  Mass.  Vols. 


BOSTON,  MASS. 

I  fully  concur  in  what  Capt.  J.  E.  Smith  writes,  in 
regard  to  Sergt.  Ambler,  being  one  of  the  officers  to 
whom  he  refers  as  taking  lessons  in  the  sword  exercise 
while  at  Long  Island,  Boston  Harbor,  then  under  the 
command  of  Gen.  Charles  Devens. 

Sergt.  Ambler  certainly  deserves  some  recognition 
from  the  government  for  his  services  during  the  late  wrar, 
and  it  seems  a  great  hardship  that  so  long  a  time  should 
elapse  before  some  action  should  be  taken  in  his  behalf. 

J.  W.  TRAFTON, 

Late  Capt.  27th  Regt.  Infantry ,  Mass.   Volts. 

As  Ass't  Adj't  Gen'l  at  Draft  Rendezvous,  we  became 
acquainted  with  Sergt.  Ambler,  and  received  instructions 
from  him  in  the  sword  exercise,  in  company  with  many 
other  officers  on  duty  at  that  post. 

We  take  great  pleasure  in  endorsing  all  that  Capts.  Smith 
and  Trafton  have  said  concerning  him,  and  cheerfully 


32  TESTIMONIALS. 

recommend  him  as  a  thorough  and  efficient  instructor  and 
soldier,  with  our  associate  officers. 
W.  A.  HILL, 

Late  Capt.  19th  Mass.  Infantry. 
E.  A.  FISK, 

Late  Capt.  30th  Mass.  Infantry. 
EZRA  FARNSWORTH,  JR., 

Late  Capt.  30th  Mass.  Infantry. 
E.  G.  TUTEIN, 

Late  Capt.  1st  Mass.  Regt.  Vols. 
C.  H.  HAYWARD, 

Late  Capt.  23d  Mass.  Regt.  Vols, 
C.  H.  HAMLEN, 

Late  Capt.  14th  Mass.  Battery. 
B.  DAVIS, 

Late  Capt.  22d  Mass.  Regt.   Vols. 
R.  B.  HENDERSON, 

Late  Capt.  13th  Mass.  Regt.   Vols. 

-BO YD, 

Late  Capt.  19th  Mass.  Regt.   Vols. 

BOSTON,  MASS. 

Sergeant  I.  W.  Ambler  entered  the  military  service  of 
the  United  States  in  the  early  part  of  1861,  as  an  instructor 
in  the  Sixth  Regiment  Maine  Infantry  Volunteers,  where 
I  first  made  his  acquaintance. 

He  was  a  proficient,  zealous  and  successful  instructor, 
not  only  in  sword  and  bayonet  exercise ,  but  also  in  deport- 
ment, soldierly  bearing,  and  all  the  influences  which  a 
thoroughly  trained  soldier  exercises  upon  his  less  experi- 
enced comrades  ;  his  example  and  teachings  were  of  great 
value  in  developing  the  high  military  qualities  which  this 
gallant  regiment  so  often  gave  most  signal  evidence  of 
possessing. 


TESTIMONIALS.  33 

Sergeant  Ambler  was  always  to  be  found  at  the  post  of 
greatest  danger — even  when  by  military  rule  exempt,  and 
on  many  very  trying  occasions,  by  his  presence  and  exam- 
ple, rendered  efficient  service,  not  only  to  his  adopted 
country,  but  to  the  establishment  of  the  brilliant  military 
record  of  troops  with  which  he  served. 

I  most  sincerely  hope  that  he  may  be  successful  in  ob- 
taining a  pension,  to  which,  I  believe,  he  is  by  his  military 
merits  and  services,  fully  entitled. 

T.  W.  PORTER, 
Late  Col.  14th  Maine  Regt.  Vols. 


TO  THE  PRESS  AND  PEOPLE  OF  MAINE. 


We,  the  undersigned,  members  of  the  Sixth  Maine 
Regiment  of  Volunteers,  are  desirous  of  calling  the  at- 
tention of  the  people  of  our  State  to  the  present  position 
and  distress  of  Sergeant  I.  W.  Ambler,  of  Biddeford, 
and  of  publicly  testifying  our  gratitude  to  him  for  the 
invaluable  service  he  has  rendered  to  us. 

Sergeant  Ambler  was  engaged  in  drilling  our  regiment, 
both  officers  and  men,  for  several  months  last  year  in  the 
vicinity  of  Washington,  and  to  his  instructions,  we  believe, 
the  regiment  owes  very  much  of  its  efficiency  and  success. 
To  his  teaching  some  of  us  owe  the  preservation  of  our 
lives  upon  thejield  of  battle. 

He  has  also  been  engaged  in  drilling  and  instructing 
other  of  our  Maine  regiments,  and  many  individuals  con- 
nected with  the  service,  both  as  officers  and  privates. 

He  is  now  disabled  by  wounds  received  while  engaged 
in  this  noble  work,  and  without  the  means  of  earning  his 
support. 

Such  a  man  should  not  suffer  wThile  a  county  remains 
which  we  can  call  our  own. 

(Signed  by) 

C.  EDES, 
L.  H.  WHITIER, 
WM.  SHERMAN, 
SIDNEY  W.  TUCKER, 
F.  G.  LEIGHTON. 


TESTIMONIALS.  C:> 

BIDDEFORD,  MAINE,  1862. 

Sergeant  I.  W.  Ambler  proposes  to  leave  us  for  a  sea- 
3on,  and  we,  the  undersigned,  cannot  permit  him  to  go 
without  bearing  willing  testimony  to  his  Christian  charac- 
ter and  fidelity,  as  a  good  missionary  among  the  poor  of 
this  place. 

He  has  been  abundant  in  labors  for  their  good  ;  minis- 
tered to  their  wants  ;  reclaimed  many  inebriates  ;  kindly 
expostulated  with  sellers  of  liquors,  and  persuaded  them 
to  give  up  their  traffic;  visited  the  sick ;  consoled  the  dy- 
ing ;  gathered  at  one  time  about  one  hundred  and  seventy 
little  ones  into  a  most  interesting  mission  school.  He  has 
preached  the  glad  tidings  frequently,  and  to  many  in  sea- 
son and  out  of  season. 

Mr.  Ambler  is  an  accomplished  military  tactician,  having 
seen  long  service  in  foreign  lands,  and  when  the  news  came 
in  1861  that  his  adopted  flag  had  been  insulted,  and  that 
it  no  longer  waved  from  Sumter,  he  immediately  left  the 
pulpit  for  the  drill-room,  giving  his  whole  time,  without 
remuneration,  to  the  instruction  of  officers  and  men  labor- 
ing in  Maine,  Massachusetts,  and  Virginia ;  giving  his 
whole  time  and  energies  to  aid  the  cause  of  freedom, 
regardless  alike  of  fatigue  and  personal  comfort,  and  by 
so  doing  has  been  made  a  cripple  for  life  ;  thus  depriving 
himself  and  family  of  those  comforts  which  otherwise  they 
might  have  enjoyed. 

Mr.  Ambler  is  a  reformed  man  ;  has  gone  through  all 
this  war  and  touched  not,  handled  not,  tasted  not,  any 
intoxicating  liquors. 

"  He  that  ruleth  his  spirit  is  better  than  he  that  takcth 
a  city." 

(Signed  by) 

LEONARD  ANDREWS,  Contractor. 
CHARLES  HARDY,  Inventor. 


36  TESTIMONIALS. 

REV.  JOHN  STEVENS,  Freewill  Baptist  Minister. 

JAMES  M.  PALMER,  Pastor  Second  Congregational  Church. 

CHAULES  TANNEY,  Pastor  Pavilion  Church. 

E.  H.  BANKS,  Merchant. 

J.  HUBBARD,  JR.,  Pastor  Baptist  Church. 

CHARLES  A.  SHAW,  Mayor. 

ALVAN  BACON,  M.  D. 

DRYDEN  SMITH,  M.  D. 

WM.  YEOMAN,  Pastor  Free  Baptist  Church. 

"VVM.  BERRY,  Police  Judge. 

ABEL  JELLESON,  Judge  Municipal  Court. 

G.  N.  "WEYMOUTH,  Attorn  ey-at-Law. 

WM.  P.  HAINES,  Treasurer  of  Pepperell  Mills. 

R.  M.  CHAPMAN,  Cashier  Biddeford  Bank. 

HORACE  PIPER,  High  School  Teacher. 

C.  C.  MASON,  Pastor  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  Saco. 

BOSTON,  MASS.,  March  25,  1880. 

This  is  to  certify  that  I  have  known  Sergeant  I.  W. 
Ambler  intimately  for  over  twenty  years,  or  ever  since 
he  was  city  missionary  at  Biddeford,  Maine,  in  1859-60  ; 
that  he  was  engaged  in  giving  military  instruction  at  the 
breaking  out  of  the  war  of  the  rebellion  in  1861  ;  that  in 
1862  he  was  brought  to  Biddeford  wounded,  where  he  was 
treated  medically  by  Dr.  E.  G.  Stevens  and  other  physi- 
cians ;  that  after  partially  recovering,  he  again  engaged 
in  military  service,  giving  instructions  to  both  officers 
and  men,  in  which  employment  he  continued  until  the 
close  of  the  war.  Mr.  Ambler  had  had  nearly  ten  years' 
experience  in  military  service  before  the  year  1861,  and  is 
considered  one  of  the  best  swordsmen  and  teachers  of 
military  tactics  in  the  United  States.  He  devoted  over 
four  of  the  best  years  of  his  life  to  the  country  during 
the  rebellion,  was  severely  wounded,  lost  his  health,  and 


TESTIMONIALS.  87 

has  never  received  one  cent  of  remuneration ;  but,  on  the 
contrary,  has  spent  a  good  deal  of  time  and  money  in 
vain  endeavors  to  obtain  his  just  dues. 

I  know  Mr.  Ambler  to  be  a  thoroughly  honorable,  up- 
right, Christian*  man,  one  who  has  done  a  great  work 
among  his  fellow  men,  as  well  as  for  his  country ;  and 
can  bear  testimony  to  the  fact,  that  the  impression  in  the 
community,  especially  amongst  those  most  conversant 
with  the  subject,  is  that  his  claims  on  the  government  for 
remuneration  are  not  only  just,  but  have  been,  heretofore, 
very  wrongfully  ignored. 

Dr.  E.  G.  Stevens,  whose  certificate  is  given  above,  is 
a  physician  of  high  standing,  in  regular  practice,  and  who 
is  thoroughly  reliable  in  every  respect. 

CHARLES  A.  SHAW, 
Ex-Mayor  of  Biddeford,  Maine. 


Co.  H,  1st.  REG'T. 
CAMP  SCOTT,  June  29th,  1861. 


BROTHER  AMBLER  : 


Dear  Sir: — I  take  a  spare  moment  to  thank  you  for  your 
kindness  and  the  services  you  rendered  me.  AVe  arc  here 
and  at  home  ;  well  received  and  kindly  treated.  Colonel 
D wight  is  a  fine  man,  n  good  officer,  and  well  beloved  by 
all,  and  we  are  all  happy  we  are  here.  My  company 
musters  ninety-two  men,  and  I  expect  to  have  one  hun- 
dred inside  of  the  next  twenty-four  hours. 

Edlesson,  who  was  sergeant,  but  now  second  lieutenant, 
wishes  you  to  have  those  instructions  in  the  sword 
written  off  for  him. 

Capt.  AAr.  H.  BUGBEE. 


38  TESTIMONIALS. 

BOSTON,  May  2nd,  1861. 
To  Adjutant-General  SCHOULER, 

Dear  Sir: — We  have  known  I.  W.  Ambler  for  some 
time,  and  have  all  confidence  in  his  integrity.  Any  arms 
the  department  may  commit  to  his  care,  we  have  no  doubt 
will  be  both  properly  cared  for  and  accounted  for. 

HENRY  HOYT, 
WILLIAM  R.  STACY, 
CHAS.  H.  PARKER, 
CHAS.  W.  BABCOCK. 

BOSTON,  June  llth,  1861 
I.  W.  AMBLER,  Esq., 

Sir: — The  members  of  the  Boston  British  Drill  Club 
are  to  meet  to-night  in  Revere  Hall,  Bowdoin  Square,  at 
eight  o'clock  precisely,  your  attendance  is  earnestly  re- 
quested therefore  please  fail  not. 

By  order         HEXRY  F.  MAGEE, 

Clerk,  pro  tern. 

Deeming  it  of  the  highest  importance  in  these  rebellious 
times  to  be  prepared  for  any  emergency,  and  to  be  better 
qualified  to  defend  our  country  and  uphold  the  laws  of 
our  land,  we,  young  men  of  Boston  not  enrolled  in  any 
military  organization  of  the  city,  agree  to  assemble  for 
instruction  and  drill  for  military  tactics,  under  the  direc- 
tion of  I.  W.  Ambler. 

Signed  by  one  hundred  and  four  volunteers. 

George  N.  Fuller,  Jacob  Cherry, 

H.  E.  Merrian,  J.  E.  Vcrrill, 

A.  Carsley,  E.  II.  Br:izcr, 

Frank  A.  Ladd,  C.  B.  Dnnforth, 

E.  M.  Wescott,  P.  R.  Hubbard, 


TESTIMONIALS. 

F.  A.  Sergent, 
William  A.  Lerva, 
Thomas  Atkinson,  Jr., 
S.  L.  Mnrison, 
Joseph  Smith, 
W.  B.  May  hew, 

F.  E.  Brett, 
S.  D.  Moody, 

G.  Renton  Carter, 
J.  W.  Morrill, 

I.  I.  Kemp, 
C.  J.  Muldor, 
Wm.  L.  Howard, 
Alped  W.  Worthley, 
Charles  B.  Tower, 
A.  G.  Foss, 
Oliver  L.  Briggs, 
David  Billings, 
A.  R.  Paslin, 


39 

Charles  II.  Dowe, 
Edward  P.  Light, 
George  E.  Pond, 
Abram  C.  Paul, 
H.  W.  Littlefield, 
Frank  Q.  Bundy, 
George  O.  Preston, 
Daniel  F.  Wood, 
F.  R.  Allen, 
E.  Farnsworth,  Jr., 
W.  A.  Waugh, 
E.  E.  Butterfield, 
Robert  L.  Merrett, 
John  A.  Cole, 
Wm.  S.  Rugg, 
E.  A.  Pearson, 
John  E.  Bailey, 
T.  E.  Bo  wen, 


POST  OFFICE,  BOSTON,  MASS. 
His  Excellency  the  Governor,  JOHN  A.  ANDREW  : 

Sir:  —  I  formed  some  acquaintance  with  Mr.  Ambler 
while  he  was  drilling  some  military  officers  in  our  depart- 
ment of  this  building  (the  hall  in  the  Post  Office  build- 
ing). I  understand  that  he  has  since  distinguished 
himself  in  the  field.  He  is  desirous  of  being  employed 
in  recruiting,  in  which  service  I  learn  that  he  has  been 
successful ;  and  afterwards  to  be  engaged  in  instructing 
his  recruits.  I  ask  leave  respectfully  to  recommend  him 
to  your  Excellency's  notice. 

I  have  the  honor  to  be  your  Excellenc37's 
Most  obedient  servant, 

JOHN   G.   PALFREY. 


40  TESTIMONIALS. 

HEADQUARTERS  GTH  REOT.  ME.  VOLS. 

August  30th,  1861. 

Guards  will  pass  Drill-master  Ambler  to  Washington 
and  return  on  the  31st. 

HIRAM  BURNHAM,  Lieut.  Col. 

Good  till  Monday. 

WM.  F.  SMITH,  Brig.  Oen.  ComcTg. 


HEADQUARTERS,  ("AMP  LYOX. 

Sept.  18G1. 

Pass  Drill-officer  Ambler,  6th  Maine,  over  Chain  Bridge 
and  return. 

By  order  Brig.  Gen. 

RUFUS  KING, 

Asst.  Adj.  Gen. 

HEADQUARTERS  DEPARTMENT  DRAFTED  MEN, 
LONG  ISLAND  BOSTON  HARBOR. 

Oct.  8th,  1863. 

Pass  Sergeant  Ambler  to  Long  Island  and  return  by 
boat.      Good  until  further  orders, 
By  order  of 

Brig.  Gen.  DEVENS, 
W.  A.  HILL,  Lieut.  A.  A.  A.  G. 

This  shows  the  Sergeant's  first  service  here,  and  the  last 
on  the  back  of  this  general  pass  is  the  following  from 
Captain  Rand. 

April  4th,  1863. 

Corporal  of  the  Guard  will  consider  this  good  until 
further  orders. 

Signed  RAND 


TESTIMONIALS.  .'  1 

WAR  DEPARTMENT. 

WASHINGTON,  Sept.  10th,  1861. 

Agent  N.  H.  &  N.  L.  and  Stonington  Railroad  Co.,  Boston. 
Please  furnish  Sergeant  Ambler,  Sixth  Regiment  Maine 
Volunteers,  with  passage,  free    of  charge  to  him,   from 
Boston  to  New  York,  on  government  account. 

Relieved  from  duty  upon  certificate  of  Thomas  A.  Scott. 
Cause,  returning  from  recruiting. 

By  order  of  Secretary  of  War, 

THOMAS  A.  SCOTT, 
General  Manager  of  Government  Railways 

and  Telegraphs. 
Received  Ticket.     1861. 

Note.  Please  file  this  order  and  return  it  to  the  depart- 
ment with  account  stated  to  the  first  of  each  month 
properly  certified  for  payment. 

THE  NATIONAL  ASYLUM 

FOR  DISABLED  VOLUNTEER  SOLDIERS. 

WASHINGTON,  April  16th,  1872. 

Please  furnish  transportation  from  Washington  to  Bid- 
deford,  Me.,  for  I.  W.  Ambler,  a  Volunteer  Soldier  dis- 
abled by  injuries,  en  route  to  the  Military  Asylum,  and 
render  account  of  "the  same  to  General  W.  S.  Tilton, 
Treasurer  of  the  Military  Asylum  at  Augusta. 

BENJ.  F.  BUTLER, 
Manager  N.  A.  D.   V.  S. 
To  the  agent  of  the  B.  &  O.  R.  R.  at  Washington. 

WASHINGTON,  D.C.,  1872. 

I  have  been  acquainted  with  Mr.  I.  W.  Ambler  for 
many  years  as  city  missionary,  in  Biddeford,  Me.,  and 
while  in  the  service  of  the  United  States,  as  drill-sergeant, 


42  TESTIMONIALS. 

during  the  Lite  war.  Mr.  Ambler  came  to  my  rooms  in 
this  city  some  time  in  August,  1861,  disabled  from  sun- 
stroke, and  remained  with  me  until  he  was  able  to  return 
to  the  field.  Learning  that  he  is  about  to  apply  to  Con- 
gress for  compensation  for  his  services  in  defence  of  the 
Union,  I  deem  it  a  duty,  as  well  as  a  pleasure,  to 
earnestly  commend  him  to  that  honorable  body  as  a  gen- 
tleman worthy  of  confidence,  and,  in  my  judgment,  en- 
titled to  relief. 

D.  E.  SOMES, 
Late  Representative  in  Congress. 

BOSTON,  MASS.,  MARCH,  22,  1880. 
I,  the  undersigned,  hereby  certify,  that  I  have  known 
Serjeant  I.  W.  Ambler  for  about  twenty  years,  that  after 
the  beginning  of  the  late  rebellion  of  the  United  States  he 
was  employed  to  give  military  instruction  in  drilling  the 
soldiers  in  the  service  of  the  United  States,  that  during  the 
spring  of  18G2,  Sergeant  I.  W.  Ambler  made  application 
to  me,  then  in  practice  of  medicine,  in  the  city  of  Bidde- 
ford,  Me.,  for  treatment  of  a  hemorrhage  of  blood  from 
the  stomach  and  bowels,  claimed  by  him  to  be  caused  by 
sudden  and  severe  strain  while  engaged  in  giving  musket 
or  bayonet  exercise  in  drilling  soldiers  of  the  United 
States  Army,  and  that  I  did  treat  him  during  the  time  in 
which  he  was  wearing  splints  for  a  fractured  arm. 

ELBRIDGE  G.  STEVENS,  M.D. 

SACO,  ME.,  MARCH  13,  1871. 

This  may  certify  that  I  have  known  Sergeant  I.  W. 
Ambler  for  a  long  series  of  years,  both  before  and  since 
the  war  of  the  Rebellion,  and  on  the  breaking  out  of  the 
war  he  threw  all  aside  and  entered  heart  and  hand  into 
the  service  of  the  United  States.  A\rhile  thus  engaged  he 


TESTIMONIALS.  43 

received  an  injury  causing  the  rupture  of  a  blood-vessel, 
from  the  effects  of  which  he  has  never  fully  recovered,  as 
over-exercise  ever  since  and  at  the  present  time,  produces 
a  repetition  of  the  trouble.  He  also  received  a  dislocation 
of  the  right  wrist  and  a  fracture  of  the  left,  and  since  these 
injuries,  has  been  unable,  and,  in  my  opinion,  ever  will 
be,  to  attend  to  business  of  any  description  to  advantage. 

J.  E.  M.  KIMBALL,  M.D., 

Late  Surgeon  27th  Regt.  Me.  Vols. 

COMMONWEALTH,  MASS., 

SURGEON-GENERAL'S  OFFICE, 
BOSTON,  March  26th,  1880. 

I  certify  that  I  have  this  day  examined  the  hand  (left) 
of  Sergeant  I.  W.  Ambler,  and  am  of  the  opinion  that 
the  same  is  useless  to  him  in  any  occupation,  on  account 
of  wound  of  left  wrist,  incurred  in  line  of  duty. 

WM.  J.  DALE, 

Surgeon-  General. 

From  the  Boston  Daily  Advertiser,  January  16,  1880. 

The  original  petition,  of  which  this  is  an  attested  copy, 
together  with  attested  copies  of  all  the  papers,  letters, 
passes,  etc.,  referred  to  in  the  petition,  has  been  presented 
to  the  Senate,  and  referred  to  the  Committee  on  Pension 
Claims.  The  history  on  which  the  petition  is  based,  and 
of  which  these  letters,  papers,  etc.,  have  been  given  in 
evidence,  is  briefly  set  forth  in  the  enclosed  printed  state- 
ment here  submitted  for  information.  It  was  written  by 
myself,  and  is,  to  the  best  of  my  knowledge  and  belief, 
true. 

DELANO  A.  GODDARD, 
Editor  Boston  Daily  Advertiser. 


44  TESTIMONIALS. 

Let  mo  add  :  — 

Would  such  a  story  bo  listened  to  with  patience  were 
it  a  mere  invention,  or  only  founded  on  facts?  Would 
not  every  American  spring  to  his  feet  if  these  charges 
were  made  by  a  sensationist,  a  book-moter,  or  by  a  mere 
story-teller  ? 

What  then  shall  we  say,  when  assured  of  their  truth— 
of  their  unquestionable  truth?  Shall  so  great  a,  wrong  bo 
passed  over  unrebuked  ?  Are  we  not  all  sharers  in  the 
guilt  of  unthankfulness,  and  of  unqualified  injustice  ?  The 
wonder  is  why  he  has  not  been  allowed  a  pension  notwith- 
standing certain  technical  objections,  alike  trivial  and 
worthless.  But,  enough.  Read  the  book  and  judge  for 
yourselves,  my  countrymen. 

JOHN   NEAL, 

Author  of  "  Seventy-Six." 

I,  Wm.  E.  Bicknell,  Justice  of  the  Peace  for  the  Com- 
monwealth of  Massachusetts,  do  hereby  certify  that  the 
foregoing  are  true  and  correct  copies  of  letters  and  testi- 
monials in  the  possession  of  I.  W.  Ambler,  which  he  has 
shown  to,  and  which  have  been  compared  by  me  with  the 


foregoing. 


WM.  E.  BICKNELL, 

Justice  of  the  Peace. 


SUMMING  UP  OF  EVIDENCE. 


BY  A  FRIEND. 


More  conclusive  evidence  of  the  justice  of  a  claim  than 
is  contained  in  the  foregoing  chain  of  testimony,  no  man 
could  have,  and  certainly  it  would  be  positive  and  wanton 
unreason  to  demand  a  more  complete  establishment  of 
case  before  giving  it  favorable  consideration.  This  claim 
has  received  an  indorsement  that  ought  to  have  over 
whelming  weight.  Men  of  national  prominence,  in  both 
civil  and  military  affairs,  governors  of  States,  literary 
men,  leading  newspapers,  and  leading  citizens,  after  a 
thorough  acquaintance  with  the  merits  of  this  question, 
declare  almost  with  indignation  at  the  delay,  that  by 
every  principle  and  precept  of  justice  Sergeant  Ambler  is 
entitled  to  a  pension,  to  a  recognition  of  his  services,  and 
the  consideration  that  has  been  accorded  to  others  in  our 
late  war,  whose  sacrifices  were  much  less  than  his,  and 
whose  condition  is  at  present  much  more  comfortable. 
The  refusal  of  the  government  thus  far  to  recognize  his 
claims  has  been  based  on  the  technical  and  unmanly  plea 
that  there  was  an  irregularity  about  his  mustering  in. 

Was  there  ever  a  more  contemptible  quibble?  Does  it 
not  speak  the  more  to  his  honor  that  he  gave  his  services 
to  the  Union  cause  through  the  entire  period  of  the  rebel- 
lion, without  taking  precautions  looking  to  personal 
profit?  Does  it  not  show  that  his  only  motive  in  offering 


46  SUMMING  UP  OF  EVIDENCE. 

his  services  was  the  good  of  his  adopted  country, — that  in 
her  hour  of  danger  and  trial  he  was  ready  to  defend  her, 
that  he  was  above  all  thought  of  pecuniary  considera- 
tion ? 

If  the  Sergeant  had  waited  for  a  large  bounty  to  be  of- 
fered before  offering  his  services,  there  would  have  been 
no  irregularity  about  His  mustering  in ;  no  hesitation  about 
giving  him  his  pay,  and  no  refusal  to  reward  his  injuries 
with  a  pension. 

But  he  was  an  unselfish  soldier,  intent  only  on  sustain- 
ing the  honor  of  the  nation,  taking  no  forethought  to 
secure  himself,  and  for  that  reason  is  neglected  by  the 
government,  which  should  not  only  have  recognized  his 
services  with  pecuniary  reward,  but  with  the  honor  of 
well-deserved  promotion. 

Can  it  be,  the  reader  asks,  that  so  brave  and  unselfish  a 
soldier  as  Sergeant  Ambler  has  thus  been  neglected?  Can 
it  be  that  he  gave  his  valuable  experience  and  labor  all 
those  years  for  nothing?  Can  it  be  possible  that  he  was 
made  a  cripple  for  life  in  the  army,  thus  depriving  himself 
and  family  of  those  comforts  which  otherwise  they  might 
have  enjoyed?  Can  it  be  that  a  great  and  generous  gov- 
ernment like  that  of  the  United  States  will  allow  the 
charge  of  leaving  one  of  its  bravest  soldiers,  disabled  for 
life  in  its  service,  to  fight  his  way  through  life  unaided 
because  of  a  flimsy  technicality,  to  be  brought  against 
it? 

This  is  the  state  of  the  case.  Sergeant  Ambler  has  not 
yet  been  paid;  Sergeant  Ambler  has  not  yet  been  pen- 
sioned, because  of  the  irregularity  aforesaid.  The  govern- 
ment did  not  allow  this  technicality  to  stand  in  the  way  of 
accepting  his  services.  It  did  not  say:  "Sergeant  Ambler, 


SUMMING  UP  OF  EVIDENCE.  47 

we  can't  let  you  drill  and  organize  our  men ;  we  can't  let 
you  make  good  soldiers  of  them ;  we  can't  let  you  instruct 
them  in  the  use  of  arms,  and  in  military  discipline ;  we 
can't  let  you  accompany  them  to  the  front  and  show  them 
a  brave  example  under  fire,  for  there  is  some  technical  irre- 
gularity in  your  mustering  in."  O,  no,  there  were  no 
technicalities  standing  in  the  way  then ;  no  irregularities 
in  the  way  then ;  no  shuffling  or  cavilling  about  the  way 
a  good  soldier  went  into  the  army  then ;  and  so  the  ser- 
vices of  Sergeant  Ambler,  technicality  or  no  technicality, 
were  gladly  received. 

But  let  us  consider  this  alleged  irregularity  for  a  mo- 
ment. The  government  excuses  its  action,  or  inaction,  in 
regard  to  Sergeant  Ambler's  case  on  the  plea  that  it  does 
not  find  his  name  on  the  regular  muster-roll  of  the  regi- 
ment, and  for  this  reason  refuses  to  recognize  his  services. 
But  during  the  war  the  government  recognized  Sergeant 
Ambler  as  a  soldier  in  its  army.  When  disabled  at  the 
front  he  was  relieved  from  duty  and  furnished  passage 
home  by  order  of  the  Secretary  of  War.  What  had  the 
Secretary  of  War  to  do  with  him  if  he  did  not  belong  to 
the  government  service.  His  pass  home  and  to  return  de- 
scribes him  as  a  volunteer  soldier  disabled  by  injuries. 
This  was  surely  recognizing  him  as  belonging  to  the  gov- 
ernment. Moreover,  John  Neal,  of  Portland,  writes  to 
the  Secretary  of  War,  informing  him  that  that  "brave  and 
patriotic  man,  Sergeant  Ambler,  who  was  relived  from  ac- 
tive duty  by  the  government,  and  sent  from  the  front  on 
leave  of  absence  to  the  State  of  Maine  to  recruit  his 
health,  is  now  organizing  and  drilling  regiments  with  one 
arm  in  splints."  In  answer  to  this  letter  the  Secretary  of 
War  sent  a  dispatch  to  Mr.  Neal,  telling  him  to  tell  Ser- 


SUMMING  UP  OF  EVIDENCE. 

geant  Ambler  to  keep  on  with  the  noble  work  till  further 
orders. 

John  Xeal  writes  to  ex-Secretary  of  State,  Hon.  J.  G. 
Blaine,  saying  Sergeant  Ambler's  sufferings  and  services 
make  him  eminently  deserving  of  reward. 

Major  General  Win.  F.  Smith  writes  to  the  United 
States  Senate,  that  Sergeant  Ambler  served  under  his 
command  as  a  volunteer  soldier. 

Gen.  Geo.  B.  McClellan  recognized  his  services  as 
valuable,  and  says  that  technical  objections  ought  not  to 
stand  in  the  way  of  ample  compensation. 

Gen.  Devens  and  Gen.  Cogswell,  of  Massachusetts,  em- 
phatically assent  to  the  same. 

The  Generals  and  Managers  of  the  National  Asylum  for 
Disabled  Volunteer  Soldiers,  Washington,  D.  C.,  recog- 
nized the  Sergeant's  services  and  wounds  by  furnishing 
him  with  transportation  from  Washington  to  the  State  of 
Maine  as  a  volunteer  soldier,  disabled  by  injuries,  en-route 
to  the  Military  Asylum  at  Augusta. 

E.  G.  Stevens,  M.D.,  testified  in  1862  :  Application  was 
made  to  me  to  treat  Sergeant  Ambler  for  a  hemorrhage  of 
blood  from  the  stomach  and  bowels,  and  at  the  same  time 
he  received  treatment  from  me  he  was  wearing  splints  for 
a  fractured  arm,  received  while  doing  his  duty  in  the 
Union  army. 

J.  E.  S.  Kimball,  M.D.,  late  Surgeon  27th  Regiment  M. 
V.,  testifies  to  the  nature  of  the  injuries.  Surgeon  General 
Dale  of  Massachusetts  testifies  to  Sergeant  Ambler  re- 
ceiving permanent  injuries  in  the  line  of  duty. 

The  foregoing  evidence  that  Sergeant  Ambler  was 
recognized  by  the  government  as  one  of  its  soldiers  is 
most  emphatic  and  conclusive.  Care  was  taken  to  make 


SUMMING  UP  OF  EVIDENCE.  49 

the  pass  which  procured  him  the  facilities  of  travel  good 
for  his  return.  The  government  not  only  recognized  him 
as  a  soldier,  but  when  he  was  incapacitated  for  duty,  and 
sent  home,  furnished  him  with  means-  of  getting  back 
again. 

If  Sergeant  Ambler  had  deserted  at  this  time  the  gov- 
ernment would  have  shown  him  how  little  it  cared  for 
irregularities  of  mustering  in.  But  despite  irregularity  it 
was  necessary  for  him  to  be  relieved  from  duty  by  order 
of  the  War  Department  before  he  could  leave  his  regi- 
ment. If  he  had  not  been  recognized  as  a  Union  soldier 
no  such  order  would  have  been  necessary. 

It  follows  then  that  if  the  government  recognized  him 
as  serving  in  its  armies,  it  is  bound  by  every  principle  of 
justice  to  allow  him  the  same  compensation  allowed  to 
others  during  the  war,  and  a  pension  such  as  others 
permanently  disabled  have  received  since  its  close.  Until 
that  is  done  those  who  constitute  the  government  have  no 
right  to  say  that  the  claims  of  patriotic  soldiers  have  been 
fully  recognized.  Certainly  the  pension  appropriation  is 
large  enough  to  cover  services  like  Sergeant  Ambler's,  and 
where  is  there  a  claim  upon  it  more  thoroughly  indorsed 
on  the  score  of  merit  than  his? 


BATTLE  CHARGE, 

IN  WHICH    PRIVATE   WM.   SCOTT   FELL. 

Amid  all  the  sad  scenes  which  the  soldier  is  called  to 
witness,  a  kind  Providence  has  so  arranged  that  there 
should  be  mingled  with  the  fearful  something  of  the  beau- 
tiful as  well. 

Such  was  the  scene  at  the  battle  of  Lee's  Mills,  during 
the  bombardment  of  the  enemy's  fort  by  Capt.  Mott's 
battery,  of  which  I  had  the  honor  of  drilling  some  of  the 
men  in  this  country,  and  in  the  old  country,  belonging  to 
that  battery.  The  first  impression  after  coming  upon  the 
scene  of  action  was  one  of  wonder  and  admiration 
at  its  brilliancy  and  sublimity.  It  was  in  an  open 
field,  surrounded  by  the  grand  old  pine  trees  such  as  you 
would  find  in  Virginia  at  that  time.  In  the  foreground, 
beyond  some  chimneys  left  standing,  was  a  peach  orchard 
all  in  bloom,  with  all  the  gorgeous  hues  so  well  known  to 
those  who  have  seen  the  sight,  and  still  further  on  the 
grand  old  woods  towering  towards  the  heavens  in  all  their 
majesty.  In  the  distant  front  was  an  opening  in  the 
woods,  in  which  was  seen  the  Warwick  Creek.  Across 
the  creek  was  the  enemy's  rifle  pits,  and  still  further  on 
the  fort  itself. 

In  rear  of  the  chimneys  mentioned  was  stationed  Capt. 
Mott's  battery,  containing  six  brass  field  pieces,  which  were 
throwing  shells  into  the  fort  across  the  creek.  Amid  the 
spirited  animation  of  the  scene,  the  officers  rode  rapidly 


BATTLE  CHARGE. 

to  and  fro,  giving  in  quick  tones  the  words  of  command; 
the  gunners  sprang  to  their  work  as  if  their  very  life  de- 
pended upon  the  energy  and  activity  of  their  motions;  the 
lightning  streaming  from  the  cannon,  the  howling  and  his- 
sing of  the  iron  thunderbolts  hurled  into  the  distant  fort, 
and  the  fiend  like  scream  of  the  whistling  demon  scorning 
through  the  air,  as  they  came  nearer  and  nearer  right  into 
their  midst,  or  exploded  over  their  heads,  with  the  fire  of 
fury  and  death.  It  is  fearfully  deafening,  and  your  ears 
will  whistle  and  sing  for  days  after. 

Two  hundred  brave  heroes  were  picked  out  for  the 
storming  party  from  the  Third  Vermont  Regiment.  They 
were  paraded  and  marched  to  the  creek,  awaiting  the  sig- 
nal with  almost  breathless  impatience,  with  a  hope  of  soon 
planting  their  colors  on  the  battered  fort.  Soon  the 
word  of  command  to  advance  was  given.  In  a  twinkling 
our  men  dashed  into  the  creek,  and  were  soon  seen  breast 
high  in  the  water,  amidst  a  deadly  storm  of  leaden  rain. 
The  ammunition  in  their  pouches  was  rendered  almost 
useless,  and  when  they  reached  the  opposite  side  they 
reformed  their  ranks. 

At  the  word  forward,  march,  they  moved  with  firm  and 
steady  step,  and  the  long  line  of  burnished  steel,  with 
glittering  points  sparkling  in  the  glorious  light  of  heaven, 
seemed  pointed  with  the  fire  of  vengeance.  When  they 
dropped  into  a  flashing  horizontal  as  the  command  charge 
was  given,  and  the  men  dashed  forward  with  a  wild  huzza, 
and  bounded  upon  the  trenches  in  the  face  of  a  constant 
spitting  of  rifles  from  the  sharpshooters,  and  presented 
them  the  piercing  points  of  the  polished  steel  in  return  for 
their  bullets. 

It  was  j^  sharp  and  decisive  struggle,  a  fierce  encounter 


BATTLE  CHARGE. 

of  steel  to  steel,  but  the  desperate  and  determined  onset 
of  the  brave  Vermonters  bore  all  before  them.  The 
enemy  turned  tail,  and  took  refuge  in  their  fort,  leaving 
our  boys  master  of  their  rifle  pits.  It  was  then  discovered 
that  in  fording  the  stream  many  of  our  men  had  wei 
their  ammunition  and  could  not  fire  a  shot,  and  were.Jet't 
without  supports.  The  enemy  perceiving  this  soon  r*a- 
lied  and  charged  upon  the  green  mountain  boys  with  over- 
whelming numbers,  and  a  frightful  struggle  took  place, 
which  ended  in  driving  those  heroic  men  back  into  the 
creek,  where  the  dead,  wounded  and  dying  layed  in 
mingled  masses,  totally  routed  and  fearfully  defeated. 

It  can  be  said  in  admiration  of  those  heroic  men,  as 
Lord  St.  Vincent  said  to  Lord  Nelson  after  his  repulse 
when  he  made  the  attack  on  Boulogne,  "  It  is  not  in  mor- 
tals to  command  success,  but  you  have  done  more,  you 
have  deserved  it." 

The  first  one  to  fall  in  this  charge  was  the  pardoned 
soldier  William  Scott,  who  was  sentenced  to  be  shot  for 
sleeping  at  his  post,  and  has  been  immortalized  in  that 
beautiful  poem  by  Francis  DeHaes  Janiver,  "  The  Sleep- 
ing Sentinel." 


3 


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